Batman: The Lost Daughter
by Wonder-Girl423
Summary: Bruce finds out that he has a daughter he never knew about. Times are about to get rocky.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER (for entire story): I don't own Batman…if I did, I'd make him wear pink. All the characters are blah blah blah…I don't own the locations either, would be cool if I did etc. there, disclaimer done.

Author's note: This doesn't take place at a particular point in Batman, except that its after Tim's dad's death. Certain characters probably wont even be mentioned (eg, Stephanie Brown, cos I just don't like her), and others (eg Barbara Gordon) won't be in the story for a while, even though I really want them to be. But, well, the ones I like end up coming into the story somehow.

I apologise if the Bruce is a little OOC…it's hard to write him as a dad. Well, the only things I've seen him act like a father in is the end of Identity Crisis and in Face Off, where Tim's bawling his eyes out like a sissy little girl…man up man!

Therefore, very poor selection of Bruce actually acting like a human being, so forgive me if its weird.

Also, I'm an Aussie, so if there's any terms I get wrong with the americanism's I'll try my hardest to remember, sorry, but I tried.

Anyway, if you still feel like reading my story after that humongous authors note/disclaimer, here it is!

STORY STORY STORY

"And you're sure of it?" The man asked as he reclined in a large, leather boardroom chair.

"Absolutely." The shadowed figure said. "He has a daughter. Once this scandal hits his stocks are going to plummet."

"Excellent." Arthur Goldsworth laughed as he pushed back from the table to stand. "Thank you, you've been a valuable addition to this company's payroll."

"It was my pleasure." The shadowed being stepped out from the shadows to reveal a sultry woman dressed in black leather pants and a blood red top. Her yellow-green eyes shone in the light. "Wayne's never going to know what hit him."

"Sir, you do have that charity ball to attend in an hour." Alfred reminded Bruce, suiting up in his batsuit, for the third time.

"I know, Alfred." Bruce said, grinning as Tim zipped up his red Robin costume as well. "Just tell them we had a family emergency or something."

Alfred sighed. "Master Tim broke his arm again, sir?"

Bruce frowned. "No. Just keep it vague. We've used that one too many times before."

Alfred hid his smile. He sometimes wondered if Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy also the feared Batman, the Dark Knight of Gotham, ever rigged the batsignal to make an appearance before he was expected to attend some social function.

"As you wish, sir." Alfred turned around and walked back out, shaking his head ruefully. That boy was never going to learn.

Bruce hopped into the batmobile, and waited patiently for Tim, but the boy seemed stuck, staring at something on the television.

"Tim, come on." Bruce said, but Tim turned around, shaking his head.

"Bruce, you want to see this."

Bruce sighed and got out of the car, coming to stand besides Tim before he stopped, shocked at the television screen.

"—And the rumors are confirmed. Our networks own private investigator has confirmed, it is viable, and somewhere out in Australia of all places, Bruce Wayne, beloved billionaire of Gotham and philanthropist, has a twenty year old daughter! Well, Brad, I would never have guessed that one." The news reader turned to her counterpart, but Bruce didn't hear the rest of it, staring into space, shocked.

Could they be right? Could he have a daughter out there?

A hand fell on his shoulder, startling him from his thoughts.

"I'll go see what the commish wants." Robin said. "You get Oracle working on that."

Bruce just nodded numbly, before thumbing his earpiece on as Tim raced for his bike.

He needn't have bothered. Suddenly Barbara was on the big screen. "Bruce, you need to go to channel 8 news. They're showing something you really need to see."

He just shook his head. "I already saw it. You need to get checking on those leads the reporters had. Please. I know it's not a case or anything, but-,"

"I'm already on it, Bruce." Barbara interrupted gently. "I'll call you when I have something."

Bruce nodded, before sitting down, slumped at his console. What the hell was going on? He wracked his brain, trying to think of someone around twenty years ago that it might have been. Suddenly his mind cleared, and he knew.

Snapping to attention he typed furiously, looking up at the screen to make sure he was searching along the right path. About fifteen minutes in he found it.

He let his hands slowly fall from the keyboard, staring at the screen. Could it be true?

Because on the screen was an obituary for his one time lover, just over twenty years ago, and a reading of the few years old inscription on the tomb stone.

"Sarah Morgan. Loving Mother, Loving Friend."

The girls mother was dead.

My name's Elizabeth Morgan, and my head felt like it was about to explode. I hear you asking, why? What's wrong? Do you have a concussion of some sort? Are you studying really, really hard for those bitchy uni exams that make you want to hurl? Did you recently have a lobotomy?

The answer to those questions, unfortunately, would be a no. my reason wasn't quite so…glamorous. Okay, so I'm not sure if that was the correct word in this circumstance, but give me a break. I'm not at my best and brightest this morning. Because, yes, I had a hang over. Head pounding, I downed two aspirin, and had almost had my head cleared when the phone started ring.

"God, if that's Stephanie again I'm going to kick her ass." I said. To no one in particular, sure, but I felt better saying it.

"Hello?"

"Is this Elizabeth Morgan?" A professional, but nasal voice asked loudly into the phone.

I winced at the tone. "This is she. Whose this?"

"I'm Sally West, reporter for Gotham's premier newspaper, the Gotham Herald. Would you be interested in an exclusive interview this afternoon?"

"Huh?" I frowned. What the hell?

"Okay," Sally said endearingly. "I'll dumb it down a shade. Gotham Herald is prepared to pay you a LOT of money for the exclusive on your story. In a few words how you've managed without a father for all these years, how it feels to suddenly find out you have one, how the rest of your family feels about this, all that warm hearted sappy crap. What do you say?"

I shook her head, staring at the phone like it had suddenly grown fangs. What the hell indeed. "Uh, sorry, Sally. I think you've got the wrong number." I said, before quickly hanging up the phone. Well, that was a wake up call if you ever needed one.

No sooner had I placed the phone back on the cradle it rang again. More cautiously this time I answered it. Who knew what nut could be on the other end of the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Lois Lane from the Daily Planet. Can I ask to speak to Elizabeth Morgan please?" this woman sounded more pleasant at least, but I wasn't biting.

"You're a reporter?" I asked warily.

"Yes, I am. I was hoping to offer you an exclusive interview on how it feels to be the daughter of Bruce Wayne, Miss Morgan." The woman said into the phone, and I frowned. I had to stop doing that. It would give me wrinkles.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said slowly, moving to sit down on the couch, wondering what I could say to get the woman to tell me more about what was going on.

"Haven't you been contacted yet?" The reporter asked. "Haven't you seen the news? It's all over the place. Look, I'll tell you what. You agree to meet me for coffee, and I'll tell you everything, in exchange for an exclusive interview."

I bit my lip, before turning on the television, muting the sound until I was off the phone.

"I'm going to have to think about it Miss Lane." I said softly, before ending the call on the woman's protests.

Because on the TV, on those morning shows that every gossip in town loved, was a photo of a good looking man, probably about forty, forty five years old. And they were calling him my father.

"What the hell-," I slumped back suddenly, glued to the T.V. At least I'd find out what was going on.

Bruce exited the jet, nervously tugging at his clothes. It had all checked out, even under the closest scrutiny that Barbara could perform. She had even managed to dig up results from a blood test a hospital in Brisbane had when his daughter had glandular fever. Babs had compared the DNA results between Miss Elizabeth Morgan and himself. And it was positive.

Now all he had to do was find her, which wouldn't be difficult at all. Her address had been the first thing Oracle had dug up. He hurried down the runway to the bag and security check and joined the cue from a commercial flight, willing to wait the line out if it meant he wouldn't draw attention to himself. All he needed now was someone to recognise him and create a scene. It was going to be hard enough to get to the girl the press were claiming to be his daughter without them knowing he was even in the country.

And what about the heat in Australia? It had been winter in Gotham, close to Christmas, and freezing cold, but here it was sweltering heat. He had sweat dripping down his back from the short walk from the plane to the air-conditioned inside of the airport as it was.

He had been on his laptop the whole way from Gotham to Brisbane, checking the latest updates on the news of his…daughter. It seemed so strange. How the hell had he not known she existed? And now she was without a mother as well. It was just like him. Just like Dick, and Jason, and Tim. All without family. He was cursed.

He hopped into a waiting Mercedes, before pulling out his cell phone, dialling the number on the piece of paper clutched in a sweaty hand for the most part of his journey. He knew she probably wouldn't answer. The poor girl had probably had dozens of people calling already. She'd probably disconnected her phone by now.

Bruce held the phone to his ear, holding his breath. No. nothing. The phone rang out. He sighed, flipping the phone closed. He would try again later.

I sat in my room, with my T.V, and my curtains drawn firmly closed, ignoring the insistent knocking on the door.

I had tried going outside, but when I did the camera's started flashing and people swarmed me, asking me questions and shoving news cameras in my face and microphones.

So no. I wasn't going to try that again.

I had my mobile next to me, ignoring every number except my friends. Though I had started to ignore some of them as well. Mostly every one of them that had rung was angry I hadn't told them earlier, and those that weren't were asking very similar questions the reporters were. Questions I wasn't ready to answer yet.

How did I feel about finding out about a father I never knew about?

Pretty damned confused. It had been an hour, and still I couldn't think about anything other then why hadn't he been there?

My phone rang again. I let it ring out. I wasn't answering any phone calls. If only my mother was here. But no, she was dead. And I was stuck with the mess she left me. What was I going to do for food if these reporters didn't leave? And fresh air. I like fresh air. I couldn't even open the windows without someone snapping a picture. Not even the bathroom window, even though they were frosted glass. Would they ever leave? And why were they so interested? It was my life. It's not that fantastic, but so what if I just found out I have a father.

Why weren't they harassing him?

It didn't seem fair, none of the TV shows I saw had reporters at his front door. There had been some interesting information on Bruce Wayne.

Billionaire. Philanthropist. Playboy.

That last one worried me. Playboy? The gossips on the morning television show had run through a list of his previous girlfriends. All models. Or movie stars. And he was my father?

No wonder Mum had never told me about him.

The knocking on the door ceased for a moment, and hope sprung up in me. Maybe they were giving up?

Then shouts of, 'Mr. Wayne!', or 'Bruce Wayne' began, followed by harrowing questions about…me?

Wait, did that mean he was outside?

I jumped up, suddenly angry. What was he doing here? It was only going to make more mess. More trouble. The press would be even worse now. And if he thought for one second I was going to let him into MY home, he sooo had another thing coming.

I heard a masculine voice. "Excuse me, excuse me." He sounded kind. "I'll answer all your questions, I promise, but only after I visit Miss Morgan."

Pfft. Like that was going to happen.

The press hushed, and there was the sound of shuffling feet, moving away from my front door. I almost smiled. Then I heard whispers at my window. Great. So instead of at my door they were going to try and catch a glimpse by the window. Fan-frigging-tastic.

Then a strong, steady knock on the door, along with excited murmurs from some of the press. I waited. I was NOT going to open the door again to some random.

"Miss Morgan?" the mild, friendly voice sounded again. "I'm Bruce Wayne. Can I come in?"


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: OK! OK! I guess I have to apologise for the comment made about Tim in the last authors note, but let me explain! I wasn't trying to be all mean and bitchy… he's one of my favourite characters, and I'm gonna risk more angry reviews, but he's also the best damn Robin there was…I mean, Stephanie Brown doesn't even need mentioning and Dick I just plain didn't like as Robin, and well Jason I know nothing about except his death, and now, him being alive again… and depending on the day and therefore my mood, Tim's also my favourite Titan, but well…that changes too frequently, cos there's Ravager, and Wonder Girl, and Cyborg… too many cool ones to really choose from. So if any of you got annoyed at my little 'sissy' comment about Tim in my last authors note… SORRY! IT WAS A JOKE! But to the reviewer who was offended, thank you very much for your nice comments before that! And don't worry, in this story he will come off much more favourably then you might think…it's Dick that gets the bad press. :P

STORY STORY STORY

"Miss Morgan?" the mild, friendly voice sounded again. "I'm Bruce Wayne. Can I come in?"

I stayed where I was, not daring to answer.

After a few, long moments I heard his voice again, this time softer, to someone besides him, it seemed.

"She is in there, right?"

There were laughs, and I rolled my eyes. This guy was a charmer.

I stomped over to the door, and slid the chain to the side, unlocking the dead lock and throwing the door open, glaring. Flash bulbs went off as I reached in and pulled the well dressed, handsome man from the TV inside, before slamming the door shut again, throwing all the locks back into place.

"Why the hell are you here?" I snapped, not allowing him time to recover from my manhandling him inside.

"Well," he said mildly. "That wasn't the welcome I was hoping for."

I narrowed my eyes, then stormed over the TV and turned it on, gesturing to the new 'breaking footage' of Bruce Wayne entering the house of his estranged daughter.

"Well, you know what, 'Mr. Wayne'," I snarled. "That," I pointed to the screen, "wasn't the wake up I was hoping for."

He looked regretful, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm sorry, Eliz-, Miss Morgan." He corrected hastily.

That's right, I thought, satisfied. I don't know you, you don't know me, so don't act like it.

"Truth be told," he continued, scratching his head. "I didn't even know about this until last night."

I looked up at him, incredulously. "You're kidding."

"No." he said, his eyes down cast, his accent sounding strange to me. But hey, mine probably did too, to him. "I was about to go out to a…function, but my adoptive son, Tim, showed me the news. I swear to you, Miss Morgan, I did not know about anything before then."

I studied him. For all intents and purposes he was looking truthful. But for all intents and purposes he had left me alone for the twenty years of my life, including when my mother had died. So I wasn't going to play happy families just yet.

"So where does this leave us?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Are you going to suddenly offer to be my 'daddy'? Are we going to try to play happy family?"

"Or," I started to pace, unable to help it. "Are you just here to tell me you don't want any part in this? Cos," I turned to him, a fed up expression on my face. "That whole media circus outside is all your fault. Just so you know."

He blinked at me. I don't think he'd been expecting that.

"I hardly think that's fair," he began with difficulty, but I cut him off from continuing.

"Why not?" I challenged. "Why isn't that fair? I _hardly_ _think_ any of those…vultures, out there would give a damn about me finding an estranged father if he wasn't rich billionaire Bruce Wayne. So tell me, Mr. Wayne, why you think none of this, including having sex with my mother, her giving birth to me, and then you having nothing to do with me, isn't your fault."

He looked regretful, I have to say, but I didn't give him a chance to say anything. I figured whatever he'd have to say could have been said in the twenty years before I found out on the news that he was my father.

"But wait," I laughed humourlessly. "You had no idea!" I mocked. "Let me guess. It was a one night stand. Wow, Bruce, and I thought your parents would have taught you better then to sleep with strange women."

He grew angry so suddenly it almost made me jump back.

"My mother and father died when I was eight." He said. "Your grandparents didn't have a chance to teach me anything."

"Just wait a minute!" I spun around, shoving a finger in his chest. "We don't even know whether its true. All I've heard is what I've seen on the E! news. Not necessarily solid evidence Brucie!"

"You think I haven't already gone into that?" he asked softly. "I've had enough unfounded rumours circulated about me to be wary of such things. I've had your blood work analysed from hospital records in relation to my own. It was positive. You're my daughter. I didn't know. I'm sorry."

I swallowed, turning to the closed curtains, wishing I could get some air into the apartment.

"Well, you work fast." Immediately after I said it I wished I hadn't. was that all I could think of to say? You work fast? Couldn't I think of anything else to say? Anything important? Profound?

"I have good friends." Bruce said vaguely, but I didn't care. He could hide what he wanted.

"And there's no chance your 'friend' is wrong?" I asked finally, staring at the ground.

"Very little." Bruce agreed, and I sat down suddenly, leaning against the wall and scrubbing my face tiredly. Of course this had to happen before my big test tomorrow. Damn desire for a university degree.

But not being able to leave the house should be able to get me out of the exam. Hopefully.

"Fantastic." I said, looking up through my fingers. "So what's going to happen now?"

He sat down on the other side of the room, not too far away, but far enough that I didn't feel crowded.

"Well," he said, looking at me intently. "I was hoping we could get to know each other. And we need to do something about the media out there. You can't live your life with them dogging your doorstep."

I snorted. I could barely live with the press being out there for four hours so far. I sooo wasn't going to do it on a longer term.

"So what?" I asked. "We hole up here and get to know each other when those wanker's outside are probably sneaking microphones under the doors as we speak? Cos I so don't want to see that in the papers."

"I had something else in mind." Bruce smiled, and I was immediately suspicious. Anyone that looked that smug when they grinned had to be up to something. Especially rich billionaires. I just couldn't seem to get over that fact. It probably didn't help that that seemed to be the main reason the press was camping outside my door.

"What?" I asked, frowning.

He stood, and walked over to me to hold out his hand. His brown hair shining in the light twisted in my stomach. It was my shade of brown. And my nose. I looked down, but his hand still appeared in my vision, taking mine and pulling me up to stand.

"Pack a bag." He said gently, letting go of my hand, pushing me towards the mess that was my bedroom.

I bit my lip, looking back at him, unsure. Was I really going to do this? Go…somewhere, with someone I didn't know? Just because he and about a million other people said he was my father? Just because he had my hair, and my nose?

I sighed, before stepping into my room and closing my door. Time to get packing.

I stepped out with a duffle bag. I didn't bother with many clothes. A couple of pairs of jeans, undies, bras, socks, and about five different t shirts. I didn't know how long I was going to be, but however long it was I was sure I'd be able to wash my clothes. The rest of the substantial bag was filled with a couple of books, my laptop, iPod, and toiletries. As well as my photo album. I don't know why, but with this new development in my life I didn't want to part with my photo's of my mother. Even if she had left me with this monumental problem.

"I'm ready." I said softly, and Bruce looked up from where he was studying the picture on the wall. It was of me and some friends from uni, standing outside a nightclub in Brisbane's CBD, grinning madly. It had been my eighteenth birthday, and I'd been thrilled to go to my first nightclub. As the youngest in my little clique, I'd been the last to be initiated in this last rite of passage.

I walked up to him, staring at the photo there, remembering back to the more carefree days of my life, before university had started. I gulped past the lump in my throat. The next day Mum had died. I reached over to finger the wood on the photo frame, before grabbing it and stuffing it into my duffle bag.

Now I was ready.

"How are we doing this?" I asked briskly, walking towards the door.

Bruce stopped me with a firm hand on my arm.

"I was thinking first one of us creates a diversion." He said, smiling and holding up a spare duffle I kept in the linen cabinet. It was full.

"Sheets." He explained. "If we throw it out the window they'll all think we're going out that way. Most of the reporters will be out of the way of the door."

I looked at him, frowning. We were going to make a run for it? That was his plan? I sighed. I guess it was a better plan than any I had.

"Be ready by the door." He said, grinning, and I rolled my eyes.

"You do this often?" I said dryly, and he just shrugged.

"Often enough."

I hefted my bag onto my shoulder more securely, and went to the door, creeping quietly in case the people heard me.

This so wouldn't go good if they didn't take the bait. And I didn't want to have to fight my way out. No thank you.

There was the sound of the window opening, then excited yells as the duffel bag landed heavily on the ground and the rushing of foot steps away from the door. It worked! I could not believe that that simple plan had worked.

Then Bruce was grabbing me by the arm and flinging the door open as silently as he could, tugging me through it. Then we were running down the drive way towards the black Mercedes – parked illegally over the entrance of the driveway, mind you – and onwards to hopefully freedom.

Bruce pulled a key fob out of his jacket pocket, and the car beeped unlocked. We were almost there when the shout of a reporter sounded, and suddenly there were flash bulbs going off behind us, and running feet following us. Bruce tugged me faster, and then I was flinging the passenger side door open, jumping in and closing the door, locking it as Bruce slid over the bonnet of the car in his expensive suit, wrenching the drivers side door open and turning the key in the car in one smooth motion.

Cameras were flashing in my face by this time, but then Bruce was pulling out of the make shift park, ramming the car into reverse, then slamming the brakes on and punching his foot down on the accelerator.

Then we were free, the reporters lost in the dust.

We were driving down the highway to the airport. Bruce had already called ahead and had the pilot prep his private jet. Private jet? I was dumbfounded. This guy, my supposed father, had a private jet?

On the way we didn't speak. Instead I looked out at the outer suburb scenery I had seen time and time again.

I couldn't find anything to say, and after the first couple of questions that had fallen dead upon delivery Bruce had stopped trying.

Finally when I saw the airport I straightened in my seat, unconsciously pulling the bag closer to me.

"Are we going to Gotham?" I asked quietly, and Bruce nodded.

"We are." He agreed. "But we're taking a slight detour. I'm dropping the plane off in Metropolis, where Alfred will pick us up in a car."

"Alfred?" I asked, biting my lip.

"My butler." Bruce said wryly. "Though he's more like family then anything."

I stared at him, not believing it. His butler? He had a butler?!

"Right, so road trip." I said bracingly, freeing my lip before it started bleeding.

Bruce smiled softly. "Sort of."

I sighed and closed my eyes, resting my head against the leather head rest. My headache was back and as fierce as before.

"Something the matter?" Bruce asked, but I shook my head. It was just a headache. I would deal.

But I had the feeling it was going to get a whole lot worse in the next couple of days then better.

So, there it is…any reviews or comments to make it better would be appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

OKAY! Let me start off by saying…PLEASE REVIEW! And then I will say that Elizabeth's opinions on America are in no way shape or form meant to be derogatory to America, so DO NOT FLAME ME! ALL FLAMES WILL BE LAUGHED AT IF YOU SAY 'America's better then India, and China, and Egypt put together!' it's just building on her character.

ANYWAY…on with the story, I just had to get that out first.

I sat in the airconditioned bliss of the private jet, waiting to land. I'd had about six hours sleep on the plane, waking to find that Bruce had placed a blanket gently around me. I fingered the cloth, frowning slightly, but didn't say anything, especially when he came in from the cockpit and looked at me, a wry expression on his face.

I turned away to look out of the window. I'd never been overseas before. And now I was going to America of all places. I'd never wanted to go to America for a holiday. It was too much like Australia. I wanted to go somewhere really different. Like China. India. Egypt.

But hey, I guess this little thing wasn't an actual holiday.

"Did you sleep well?" Bruce asked quietly, and I shrugged.

"As well as I could considering I'm on a private jet heading to America and the clouds outside are looking really turbulent-y." I answered truthfully. At his look I amended my comment. "I've never really been a good flier. Not a terrible one, but not great." The clouds outside were worrying though. Every now and then I'd see a flash of light in the dark grey clouds. Lightning. I didn't like that we'd have to fly through that before we could land one bit.

He nodded, so I continued. Okay, so I may have been babbling a little. "I mean, if God had meant for us to fly, then he would have given us wings, right? But instead we're sitting in some million tonne metal tube a couple thousand feet in the air."

He grinned, sitting down in the chair across from me. "A lot of people feel that way." He said. "But don't worry. A friend of mine always says, statistically speaking, flying is the safest way to travel."

I smiled. He was trying to help me through my nervousness about flying. That was cute. And sweet.

"Thanks, Bruce." I said, before folding the blanket up. "How long until we get to Metropolis?"

He looked regretful. "The pilot says there's a storm cell over the eastern sea board. I don't think we're going to be able to land in Metropolis, or Gotham for that matter."

I frowned. Well, this wasn't in the plan. "Where then?" I asked. "how bad is it?"

Bruce shrugged. "The pilot said we could probably make it through, but I said to land somewhere else."

"Can you do that?" I asked curiously. "Just change your flight plan like that without any notice?"

Bruce looked thoughtful, as if that hadn't occurred to him. It probably hadn't. Rich billionaire's don't usually think about the laws they break until they do.

He didn't have a chance to answer. There was a loud crack, and the lights went out, the plane shaking.

My eyes widened, even as Bruce sprang forward, clasping the two ends of my seat belt and clicking them together before he jumped back into his seat and did it to himself.

"Just some turbulence." He said, smiling reassuringly. I bit my lip, but nodded anyway, closing my eyes even as the plane continued to shudder. This wasn't so fun anymore. Pfft. Like it was any fun in the first place.

The pilots voice came over the speakers. "Mr. Wayne, Miss Morgan, if you could please fasten your seat belts. We're experiencing some mild turbulence."

"Mild?" I exclaimed, my eyes flying open. "Mild turbulence?"

I closed my eyes again as the plane shook more violently, grasping the arm rests so tightly I thought I might break them. My stomach was rebelling, and I nearly vomited, but held on grimly. Puking on the newly discovered parental might not be the best first impression I wanted to make.

"Tell me again why I'm here?" I bit out, wishing we were on the ground already.

He didn't say anything, except to reach over and grasp my hand. Ok. It was slightly better now. Not quite so bad. If he could reach over and hold my hand, I guess the turbulence couldn't have been too horrible.

But it still scared the shit out of me.

We landed on the ground without incident. I had the overwhelming urge to kiss the ground, but seeing as there was a limousine waiting on the tarmac for us, I didn't. And it was SNOWING, and Bruce was following me with my bag, I declined. I would have carried my own bag, but my legs were still a bit shaky from the horrific landing that I think I would have fallen down the stairs that had been rolled up to the plane's door.

And I was freezing. Jeans and a tank top so didn't cut it in snow. And Bruce had just conveniently failed to mention about the snow.

I did stand still for a moment when we were on the ground though, closing my eyes and sighing thankfully that we had landed safely. That plane trip had left something to be desired. I opened my eyes when Bruce placed an arm on my shoulder, and saw him looking at me with concern. Okay. I was okay.

I smiled reassuringly at him, taking my duffle from him to prove I was alright, before squaring my shoulders and following him to the car. Maybe the added exertion of carrying my bag would warm me up.

When we got closer to the car the driver stepped out, in a tuxedo, looking every bit amused at the situation.

"Master Bruce. An eventful trip?" he said primly, and Bruce smiled.

"You could say that." He nodded, then pulled me forward a bit. "This is Elizabeth Morgan. My daughter."

The man nodded, stepping forward and taking my duffle to place it in the boot of the car.

"Elizabeth, this is Alfred Pennyworth. He's been looking after me since I was in diapers."

I raised an eyebrow at Bruce. This guy had been with him for at least forty something years? Jesus. Talk about being committed to your work.

"And I've done an amazing job of putting up with him as well." Alfred said to me, eyes twinkling. "Care to step in the car, Miss Morgan?"

I grinned. He seemed pretty cool. A bit of a smartass, so that was always good. Not to mention British. That was pretty cool. Some breath of fresh air in the American dominated world. Not that I planned to stay there for long enough to need a breath of fresh air.

"It's just Elizabeth." I said as I stepped into the heated car, Bruce following me.

I heard faintly as Alfred closed the door, making me roll my eyes, "As you wish, Miss Elizabeth."

"Does he always do that?" I asked Bruce plaintively as I buckled my seat belt.

"Do what?" he asked, sitting on the other side of the limo. The battle lines had been drawn. His side and my side.

"The whole, Miss Elizabeth, Master Bruce thing." I explained. "It just seems…tedious."

Bruce smirked. "good luck trying to get him to call you anything else. I've been trying that for years."

I tried not to think that I wouldn't be around for years. Now that I'd been getting to know Bruce I kinda liked him, though it was still early days yet. He could turn out to be a complete jerk. This could be a publicity stunt. And this adopted son I kept hearing so much about…Tim? He could be a little shit. I never did catch how old he was, though I think I remembered seeing something on the news about him when I was locked up in my place, trying to keep away from the press, and he'd been maybe three years younger then me, so I guess changing diapers was out of the question.

There was someone else Bruce had adopted, someone named Richard? But he was a good three, four years older then me at least now. At least I wouldn't have any 'siblings' my age.

"How far is it to Gotham?" I asked curiously, running my fingers over the leather.

"Only a couple of hours." Bruce said, relaxed. "It'll be bad when we get to the Manor, but these windows are dark enough that the press wont be able to get a look in."

"Okay." I said smally, drawing my knees up to rest my head against, a little awkwardly. I was still a bit chilly from the weather outside, not to mention tired still. I don't think anyone can rest well on a plane.

"I know it's hard." Bruce said softly, drawing my eyes up to him. "And I'm not pressuring you into anything. If you want to go back to Australia, all you have to do is ask. I'll keep out of your life until you want me around, if you ever want me around, and I'll try my best to keep the press off you."

I looked at him thoughtfully, trying to decide if he was for real or not. This was just so surreal. I find out I have a father, who's actually nice, AND one of the richest men in the world? Why me? Why did I win the magic lotto?

"Why are you doing all this?" I asked quietly. "Why did you rush out to Australia as soon as you heard? Why did I even get on the plane?" I asked, my voice raising. "This is crazy!"

Bruce was looking at me thoughtfully from across the limousine. "I can't answer that last question." He said honestly. "But I hope it's because you want to get to know me as much as I want to get to know you. I remember your mother. She was a bright, wonderful woman, Elizabeth, and if you turn out half as good as she did, then you'd make me very proud to call you daughter."

I gave a frustrated little scream. What was up with this guy? He was so…suave. Understanding. It was like he had someone writing this material for him. I was half tempted to check him for an earpiece, but held back.

"What the hell is up with you?" I said instead, my voice a little high. "How long did you rehearse that for? And who wrote it? Laying it on thick aren't you? As if this isn't just some stunt to get publicity or something. There is no way you're like that for real."

"Like what?" he asked coolly, looking at me curiously.

"Calm!" I shouted. "Collected! You can't tell me this doesn't bother you! You've suddenly found out you have a daughter, and you're sitting there like…" I trailed off, horror filling me. "Like you already knew." I said softly, glaring at him.

"How long have you known?" I seethed. "How long did you know about me before you acted on it?"

He looked alarmed now, reaching forward in his seat to place a hand on me calmingly. I shrunk away, and he stopped.

"I didn't kn-," he started, but I cut him off.

"Months?" I laughed sadly. "Years? Do you really expect me to believe that you had no idea about me? That you would have jumped on a plane to go halfway around the world as soon as you found out? That sort of thing doesn't happen in real life Bruce."

He looked sad, and I almost felt bad, but held that feeling at bay. It wasn't his life that had just been screwed around. He still had his money, he still had his jet. He could escape it all if it got too much. Me, I was just 'escaping' through his good graces. And if he suddenly decided he didn't want me around, I'd be stuck in America with no way home.

"I don't know what's happened in your life to make you so cynical of anyone just wanting to help." He said quietly, looking at me intensely. "But that sort of thing does happen. Whether you believe me or not about me knowing about you is immaterial. I'm here, now, and I want to get to know you. And I'm only calm and collected because I know nothing will come from screaming and shouting." He gave me a small grin as I continued to glare at him. "And to tell you the truth, I kind of like the idea of having a daughter. I've only ever had sons."

I looked at him, biting my lip before looking away. Even though I had just had that little freak out he was still being nice to me. He was still acting like he wanted me. Maybe he was my father. I sniffed pathetically, and he unbuckled his seat belt, moving from his side of the car to mine. Sitting next to me he cautiously put an arm around me. I gulped a little, but let myself wrap an arm loosely around him as tears started to fall. I don't know why I was acting like that. It wasn't an overly sad moment or anything. It wasn't like my pet gold fish had died or anything. (he'd actually been dead for a year now…I forgot to feed him when I went on holiday…) I was a twenty year old, very capable woman. And I messing up his three hundred dollar shirt.

I pulled away after a few moments, wiping my eyes. No need to scare him off just yet.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling out a handkerchief. I nodded shakily, accepting it and wiping my eyes properly, trying to calm my breathing.

"It's just…" I trailed off, and he half smiled at me.

"I know, Elizabeth." He said simply, pulling away and buckling up in the seat next to mine, his hand travelling down to grasp mine comfortingly. It felt weird to hear him call me that, but somehow, it felt familiar. Like that's how it should be. I realised I wouldn't be able to make him call me 'Miss Morgan' any longer. Especially if I wasn't going to let Alfred do it. But I wasn't going to start calling him 'Dad' yet.

"Thanks." I whispered quietly. A squeeze of my hand was the only response.

Bruce watched her sleep with a contemplating look. She really was his daughter. Same nose, same hair. She had her mothers eyes, and her mothers tall, slim body. And her mothers fiery attitude. He was hit with a sudden sadness. He hadn't been around when she was growing up. He hadn't seen her grow into the tough, clever woman she was now. He hadn't been around to dote on her like he should have. She was his daughter. All those birthdays, and Christmas' he'd missed out on.

Well. He was going to make that up to her, if she let him. Not even his duties as Batman would stop him.

They went the back way into the Manor, just to be sure. Tim had called ahead and said there were about two dozen reporters camping outside the gates to the Wayne Estates, and Bruce was grateful he did, even if the ringing of his phone had woken Elizabeth, who hastily straightened and tugged her singlet right. They didn't want a run over reporter as well as the stir that was going to be going on with this new scandal.

When Elizabeth saw the Manor though, Bruce held his breath. She'd either love it, or hate it, he knew.

Her eyes widened as she stared out the window.

"Whoa."

OKAY. So Elizabeth was a little PMS-y this chapter. And Bruce was a little sensitive for my liking, but as much as I fiddled around with it, it didn't seem to flow either way. And don't worry…there WILL be a story line.

But first, some questions to be asked.

Romance in the story… I've been thinking about perhaps it being Roy Harper, aka Arsenal, cos he's one of my faves, but I would like any suggestions you guys have.

I also need feedback on whether or not in the VERY VERY long distance future, Elizabeth should become a vigilante. I'm trying to figure out the plot in my head, and I need feedback.

So, in short, reviews would be great, whether its about romance or vigilantism, or whether its to tell me how crap my story is, please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

They went the back way into the Manor, just to be sure. Tim had called ahead and said there were about two dozen reporters camping outside the gates to the Wayne Estates, and Bruce was grateful he did, even if the ringing of his phone had woken Elizabeth, who hastily straightened and tugged her singlet right. They didn't want a run over reporter as well as the stir that was going to be going on with this new scandal.

When Elizabeth saw the Manor though, Bruce held his breath. She'd either love it, or hate it, he knew.

Her eyes widened as she stared out the window.

"Whoa."

CHAPTER 4

"Whoa." I said, staring out the window. It was massive. Huge. And quite possibly a hundred times bigger then my crappy apartment.

And probably not as roach infested.

Hopefully.

"This is where you live?" I asked, shocked, to Bruce. He nodded, smiling a little.

"Holy shit." I didn't mean for the words to come out of my mouth. But they did. Couldn't help it now. I looked guiltily at Bruce though, and he just raised an eyebrow. "Bloody hell?" I amended weakly, and he just sighed as we pulled into what looked like a garage.

And indeed it was. I almost swore again when I saw the sheer amount of 'fancy' cars and bikes in there. Some old, some new. But I knew they all cost a fortune.

"You live here?" I asked again, and Bruce chuckled.

"Wait until you see inside." He murmured as he opened his door, leaving me staring out the window of mine until Alfred opened up my door with an amused look.

"Do you need some assistance, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, a slight smirk on his face, and I scrambled out of the car, shaking my head as I blushed.

"I'm right, thanks mate." I said, before turning my head to look around, astonished.

It was pretty…scary. Would I be able to touch anything in his house without thinking I was going to break it? Oh god. If I broke it, was I expected to pay for it? I didn't have that kind of cash. Third world country's didn't have that kind of cash.

"Elizabeth?" Bruce was at my elbow, placing a hand on my shoulder. "If you feel uncomfortable, I can get you a room at a hotel."

It took me a moment to register what he said, and my eyes widened further as I shook my head. "No thanks." I said quickly. What would be worse then being in a strange (ish) country than being in a strange (ish) country alone?

"Then come on." He said gently. "I'm sure your younger brother's dying to meet you."

Younger brother. The words echoed in my head as I was led unresisting out a door and into the main building. The main building. My father had a 'main building' to his house. I mean, sure, a lot of people did with their garages and such, but not like this.

BMBMBM

I was staring around me so much that I didn't notice the dark haired teen sitting in the living room Bruce was leading me to until I had walked about two metres in the door. Then I stopped dead. It was that boy from the news. I remembered what they had said about him. Orphan. His father had been killed by that villain guy, Captain Boomerang, and Bruce had adopted him about a year after that.

"Elizabeth, this is Timothy Drake. Tim, this is Elizabeth." Bruce said, making the introductions. I tried to smile and stuck my hand out.

"Pleased to meet you." Tim said, his blue eyes studying me carefully.

"You too." I said, shaking his hand.

"So," I said awkwardly. "Do you live here as well?"

Then I almost wanted to slap myself. 'Do you live here as well?' was that the best I could come up with? He was like, seventeen. Of course he lived there as well.

He must have seen the look on my face, because he cracked a smile, nodding, and didn't torment me further.

"Come on." Bruce said. "Let's show you your room."

I gulped. It wouldn't be filled with antique's that I would most likely break, would it?

We walked down the hallways and I tried to stop saying holy shit. I managed for the most part, but I think I managed to get out a couple more before my mind got the order not to let my lips move.

By then Tim was looking at me with an amused look, shooting a few looks to Bruce as well. Somewhere in some far off room I heard a phone ring, and Alfred excused himself to answer it, sighing.

I felt bad for him. If what had happened outside my apartment was any indication, he must have had a shocker of the last couple of days with phone calls and the media.

We turned down another corridor and I sighed. I was so going to need a map. Orienteerer I was not.

Finally we stopped at a door. It had seemed like forever, but I knew it was just dread making it seem that long. What if it was all…pretty? Like, flowers. Or pink! What if it was pink! And not the cool, fluoro pink either. Like the pale baby pink that was just a bad colour on anyone, and everything.

I braced myself for what was to come when Bruce opened the door, and was pleasantly surprised. A nice, neutral green quilt cover adorned the queen sized bed, along with simple, but stylish decorating. And not a pink thing in sight.

It was good.

I entered with Bruce and Tim trailing behind me, watching my reaction carefully. I went and sat down on the bed, feeling a little numb.

"Elizabeth?" I looked up when Bruce said my name. he looked worried.

"This is…real, isn't it?" I said finally, fingering the quilt cover shakily.

"It is." Bruce said solemnly, and I covered my face with my hands, brushing my hair back, then again, just to calm myself.

"Okay." I said, then repeated myself. "Okay."

"We'll leave you here to unpack." Bruce said quietly. "If you still want to stay."

I stared at him for a long moment. Did I? Wouldn't it just be easier to go back to Australia, finish my exams and try to get on with living my life? Here there was the whole press thing. Not to mention making up for years lost with my father. And my brother. Brothers, I corrected myself absentmindedly. Plural. There was that cop guy Bruce adopted years ago.

"We'll see." I said quietly, clenching my fists as I thought about all the things I would be giving up, just to stay here for just a week even, and get to know my 'dad'. And work! I still hadn't called them to tell them what was happening. I must have been the worst employee in the history of the company.

I looked at the time on the bedside table clock and tried to work out the time difference, wondering if anyone would answer at ten at night. The small fish and chip shop I worked in paid me well, but it was family owned by this nice little Hungarian family, and a lot of the time the owner would stay behind and count the money and all that jazz. But no. I don't think even ten would be a good time to call.

They left the guest room, passing my bag on the way out. So okay, maybe I did like it here. And Bruce had pretty much given me an open invite to stay as long as I liked.

So long as I didn't find out he was hiding these big secrets like he was an axe murderer or something big like that, I'd be fine.

Right?

BMBMBM

"Master Dick will be joining us for dinner." Alfred informed Bruce as soon as he stepped through the door to the office where Bruce kept his 'domestic' computer and phone.

Bruce nodded briskly. "Good." He said. Another set of eyes would be good. He needed to know if this was an elaborate trap like Damian had been, the child of Talia that had been sent to Bruce.

And with Dick, Tim, and Bruce on the case, there was no doubt they would spot anything suspicious.

He just hoped she was for real.

BMBMBM

"Miss Elizabeth, dinner will be ready in ten minutes." Alfred's voice at the door made me jump, nearly dropping the photo album I held in my hands. I'd been staring at the photo's of my mother, wondering how she could have kept this secret from me. Of all, this secret. I could have been a secret government experiment and it wouldn't have bothered me as much as this was.

"Thanks Alfred." I said quietly, still staring at the pictures.

"Something the matter, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked kindly, and I looked up finally, closing the album.

"No!" I said hastily. "Nothing wrong. The rooms…just fine. I'm fine." I nodded, but I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince, him, or me.

He looked like he didn't believe me, quirking a brow, but didn't say anything.

"If you say so, Miss Elizabeth." He said, then left my doorway. I sighed. Time to face the uh, family.

I stood, digging through my bag until I found my good jeans. Which translated to the ones without holes in them. Finding another top – I'd been in the one I was wearing for over a day now – I changed.

Then I realised I had no idea where to go once I stepped out of my room.

Pulling a face at the prospect of trying to navigate the Wayne Manor by myself I stepped out. To find Alfred waiting for me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had a guide!

"Lead the way." I said, thankful he was there.

He just gave me a knowing look and started to lead me to dinner.

BMBMBM

He left me at the door to the dining room with an omnipotent smile. Yeah, yeah. He knew I was shit scared. Bruce seemed…alright. It was Tim that scared me.

And the mysterious guy sitting next to Bruce. The one I didn't know. Yeah, he scared me too.

I stopped dead in the doorway, staring. Ok. This wasn't in the brochure.

"Hi." I said dumbly, not sure what I should do, or hell, even where I should sit. There was a seat free next to Bruce, but Tim wasn't there yet, so I didn't know whether he would be sitting there or not.

"Elizabeth," Bruce smiled, gesturing to the free seat. "This is Richard Grayson. Dick, this is Elizabeth."

"Hi." I said warily, sitting next to Bruce. "Good to meet you, Richard. Bruce didn't tell me you were going to be here."

He grinned easily. "That's because I only told him a couple of hours ago. But please, call me Dick."

"Ok." I said quietly, glaring slightly at Bruce. Even though he'd only known for a couple of hours, he could have given me a heads up.

"So, you're the one the media's been going nuts over." Dick said friendly. "I'm just glad I'm in Blüdhaven now. The press don't pay me as many visits."

I sighed. "I live in Australia." I said flatly. "It didn't help me any."

He laughed as Tim walked in the door, flinging himself into a chair.

"I'm hungry." He moaned, and Dick slapped him upside the head.

"Use you manners." He said. "We have company."

Tim shrugged, and looked at me. "Elizabeth's cool. She doesn't care."

I grinned. I didn't. If I'd known Bruce for longer then I had, and knew how he'd react, I'd probably be doing the same. Sure, we'd eaten on the plane, but it was plane food. No matter how rich Bruce was, it didn't do anything for the food.

"So, you two were both adopted by Bruce?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. If I hadn't known that already I would assume they were father and sons. The family resemblance was uncanny.

"I was adopted as his ward." Dick said. "And Tim as his son. Tim's the legal heir to the Wayne name."

I raised my eyebrows at that. Well, if that wasn't a hint, I didn't know what was.

Bruce gave Dick a little glare, and I tried to suppress my smile. At least he didn't sic him on me. Well, I don't think he did, anyway.

"Dick-," he started, but we were interrupted by Alfred bringing in the food.

Which was good. I so didn't want to get into a throwdown about me being a possible money grabber looking for the Wayne fortune. Because that was so not the case. Nothing could be further from the truth. The whole private jet thing and the big mansion were not my thing.

Give me a small apartment and public transport any day.

What Alfred put in front of me was unrecognisable. Plain and simple. I didn't know what it was. It was cut up and arranged artfully. But all I knew was that it was white meat. So that could mean anything. Chicken, fish…human.

Hey, that human bit wasn't learned first hand. I saw it on Discovery or something.

I realised belatedly they were all staring at me. I blushed, before cutting into my meat quickly. Stupid fancy food. I wonder what it was. Didn't matter. It was probably chicken. Tasted like chicken. I hoped it was chicken.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Dick asked diplomatically, ignoring the look Bruce gave him.

"I'm a student." I answered in between mouthfuls. It really was quite good. "And I work part time at a fish and chip shop a few streets away from my apartment. What about you?"

"Police officer." He said, and I grinned slightly. I'd always wanted to be a cop when I was younger. More naïve. Now I knew what hard work it could be, inglorious, and the people you helped were rarely grateful.

"Cool." I said, instead of voicing my opinions. "Do you enjoy it?"

I'd never really been good at the whole small talk thing, so I hoped they excused me if my questions sounded awkward.

"It's good work." Dick said, smiling wryly. "It needs to be done."

I nodded. I wish I had the guts to do something that selfless.

"What do you study?" Bruce asked, frowning. Okay, so he didn't know I was in university. But we hadn't really talked much.

"English Literature. But I'm thinking of getting into languages as well." I added as an after thought.

"Sounds interesting. So you're interested in other cultures?" Bruce had a look of mild interest on his face.

I shrugged. "It's kinda hard not to be. We've all gotta live together."

Bruce smiled sadly. "That we do. You should like Gotham then. There aren't many cultures you can't find here."

"The University of Gotham also has quite a few good language degrees to choose from." Alfred said from where he stood against the wall.

Well, if that wasn't a hint, I don't know what was. I looked up in time to see Bruce shoot Alfred a warning look and Tim and Richard share a knowing look. If I had to guess, I'd say Alfred liked to meddle in Bruce's affairs, and often.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said awkwardly.

The talk soon moved on to things I didn't know about, and people I didn't know, so I tuned out, focussing on my meal instead. The chicken stuff was pretty good.

Even if it wasn't really chicken.

Soon I yawned, the events of the past 48 hours catching up with me.

"Sorry." I said sheepishly, covering my mouth.

Bruce looked at me smiling softly. "That's alright. It's been a long couple of days for us all."

I nodded at the understatement. "If it's alright, I think I'll go to bed." I stood, but then looked unsure at the door. I had no idea how to get back to my room.

The next thing I knew Dick was standing up next to Bruce. "I'll show you to your room."

The offer surprised me. Of all the people to offer I hadn't expected it to be him. But maybe he wanted to threaten me. He didn't seem to like me at all.

Well fine. If he wanted to get me alone so he could threaten me well and proper without Bruce there, he could try. He would fail.

I followed him dutifully out the door, and through the myriad of corridors.

"This place needs a map." I grumbled, passing yet another work of art on the walls. Maybe that was how I could find my way around, by whatever art was in the corridor?

Dick laughed at my comment, and I smiled a little. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Then he stopped all of a sudden, gesturing me to as well. I turned, about to ask him what it was. He put a finger to his lips and I got the hint. There it was again. A miniscule shuffle of feet, right before five men burst out of a room about three metres ahead of us.

Five men with guns.

I bit my lip to stop myself from screaming, even as Dick placed himself in front of me, shielding me.

"Oh my god." I moaned softly as I looked over my unexpected protectors shoulder. These guys looked mean. And what were they doing in Bruce's home?

"She's coming with us." One of the men growled, and my eyes widened even further. Um…no. I really wasn't.

"Elizabeth, run." Dick said quietly, and I nodded. I didn't have to be told twice. I turned and bolted the other way, back towards the dining hall, screaming bloody murder the whole way, trying to alert Tim and Bruce and Alfred as well.

Too bad I didn't make it ten metres before a body collided with mine and I was forced to the ground.

I gasped out, losing my breath.

"I have her." Whoever it was on top of me called to his buddies. That was before I felt a cloth press against my mouth, and all the sounds of Dick fighting off our attackers faded.

Darkness.

BMBMBM

Dick fought even harder when he saw Elizabeth drugged. He did his best, but it wasn't good enough. These guys were pros, and they had been trained. And they outnumbered him.

So much so that they managed to knock him down, and then, surrounding him, the fight was over. Dick barely saw the kick that came racing towards his head.


	5. Chapter 5 Short one

Chapter 5

Bruce, Tim and Alfred had heard Elizabeth's screams, and had been up on their feet instantly, running to the door. They had nearly made it until it had been locked shut from the other side. Bruce banged on the door uselessly, but it didn't help. From the sounds of something scraping on the ground it was being barricaded. He would get out. He had to.

He turned and saw Tim and Alfred looking at him with worried looks, before he ran to the other door of the dining room. It wouldn't exit out into the hall way where Elizabeth was, in fact it went to an entirely different wing of the house and it would be unlikely that he would get to her in time, but he had to try.

"Alfred, go down to the Cave." Bruce snapped on his way past, grabbing a fire poker from the fire place on his way out, knowing Tim was following him close behind.

Most of all, Bruce wanted to know how they got in. And he was going to find out.

He rounded a corner, then another, and then he came upon a sight that made his blood run cold. Dick was lying on the ground, unconscious. At least, he hoped it was just unconscious.

He knelt besides him, checking his pulse and breathing and let out a sigh of relief. He was okay. Knocked around a lot, but okay.

"Tim, get Dick to the Cave." Bruce said coldly. "I'm going after whoever did this."

BMBMBM

Bruce didn't get too far. A screech of tyres was all he heard until he saw two twin break lights of a car smashing through his iron gate, and escaping into the night. He knew he would never catch them, even in the Batmobile. They would have too much of a head start once he reached the Batcave. But he would have them and their car on surveillance videos. That would be something.

And then he would get them.

All of them.

BMBMBM

I woke with a groan, only to find I couldn't see. A blind fold was tight around my head, and my hands had been tied behind my back where I sat on a chair. Not to mention the gag, what tasted like a dirty old rag wrapped around my head and in my mouth. Disgusting.

This wasn't good.

Damn Bruce. Two days ago I'd been a normal girl, and just because he suddenly finds out I'm his daughter, I get kidnapped. This kind of thing could only happen to me.

A hand pulled off my blind fold and I glared up at my captors as I tried to adjust my eyes to the light. Front teeth missing, shaved head, tattoos up and down his arms….just pleasant.

"Hello pretty." He said with a leer, and I had to look away, disgusted. That was when I noticed the video camera and the newspaper.

A ransom video. They were making a ransom video? And what made them think that Bruce would pay anything for me? He'd known me two days tops.

No Teeth gestured to the camera man. I couldn't see them due to the blinding light shining at me from the camera, and then they were rolling.

No Teeth picked up the newspaper, today's, I presumed, and started talking.

"This is Elizabeth Morgan." He said. "Daughter of Bruce Wayne. If we don't get twenty million dollars in small notes in 72 hours time, we will kill her."

He rounded on me and smiled. "And to prove that we're serious," he nodded to someone outside my view, and with a start I realised she could hear a car running. No Teeth took off her gag, and I used the chance to express myself. Loudly.

"You son of a bitch!" I yelled hoarsely. "I am going to kick your ass." I didn't have a chance to say anything else. A blow to my head silenced me, sending me reeling as I rocked back from the hit. Why was the room spinning?

When I came to my senses a cigarette lighter was being held in front of me, No Teeth facing the camera again.

Suddenly I gulped. This wasn't looking so good.

"Bring the table." No Teeth ordered, the camera still rolling, and a small, school sized, table was pushed towards me. No Teeth walked around my chair and untied my hands. I never thought I would wish to keep the bindings, but there I was, wishing I hadn't been untied, knowing exactly where this was going.

He grabbed my hand, despite my struggling, and managed to get it on the desk, holding it tight. I bit my lip. I'd started shaking, but I forced myself to keep looking. I wasn't going to turn away, and I wouldn't scream. I knew that was why he had taken my gag out. And I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

No Teeth flipped my hand up to the soft underside on the desk, and I knew I had to fight some more. I couldn't just let him do it. And I had a hand free. I had no chance against the men, whose number I didn't know, but I could try.

Well, that was what I thought until the cigarette lighter came down on my hand. All my brave resolutions went out of the window as I screamed, tears streaming down my face as the smell of burned flesh filled the room.

Oh god, what had I gotten myself into this time?

BMBMBM

When they were done with the video I was untied from the chair, then hog tied, then thrown onto the floor, gag, and blindfold in place as well.

I don't know how, but somehow I slept.

---

Bruce watched the video grimly, ignoring his daughters screams. He had to be objective, to find any clues in the video. But that didn't mean he wasn't scared.

He'd just found her.

He was going to lose her.

"Robin, have you the get to IPP address the video was sent from?" Bruce barked, and the young man jumped.

"Not yet, Batman." Robin said, typing away furiously. "But I'm close."

They were in the Batcave. They had searched all night for any clues, and when the video came through over the internet, on youtube of all places, they had returned to the Batcave. If they hadn't found clues yet, then the video was their best bet.

But these guys were smart.

They had routed the video through at least a dozen addresses, maybe even more. It was probably a safe bet that they were still in Gotham, because Elizabeth had only been kidnapped four hours ago. They also had the Gotham paper. While that wasn't conclusive evidence, there would be no reason for them to move Elizabeth out of Gotham. It was a big place. He remembered when they were trying to find Stephanie Brown. They'd only ended up finding her because she'd escaped. He could only hope Elizabeth was that lucky.

But in case she wasn't, he'd already started collecting money to hand over.

He didn't usually make it his policy to negotiate with terrorists, but it was his daughter, and anyone who knew Bruce, really knew him, would know that as soon as he had heard he had a daughter a bond had been created. A bond that he would preserve as long as he could.

So long as she didn't turn out to be evil.

"Uh, Bruce." Tim's voice was uncertain, almost like he wasn't sure whether he was sure he should interrupt Bruce's work.

"What?" Bruce snapped.

"There's another video."

BMBMBM

I'd been kicked awake. I felt sharp pains in my stomach as I tried to vomit past my gag. My captors grabbed me by my hair, dragging me up and slamming me into the chair again, the bright light already shining and I could tell the video camera was rolling as a newspaper was shoved under my chin by my now hooded captor.

I stared wide eyed into the light, eyes watering.

"Did you not think we were serious?" The man behind me snarled into the camera. "We haven't received the money yet. If we don't, pretty Miss Morgan will die."

Then one of the thugs was untying my hands again, and they were free.

"If burning her didn't get your attention, then maybe breaking an arm will."

I felt my eyes widened in shock and horror. Then I did the one thing I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't.

I begged.

"Please no." I cradled both arms close to my body, but it was to no avail, the kidnapping thugs quickly overpowering me and stretching my arm across the table, half of my forearm over the edge.

I opened my mouth to plead with them again, but all that came out was a long painfilled scream as the man brought his foot down on my arm. It broke.

And it was agony.

As soon as I was able, I withdrew my arm back to me, trying to hold it as gently as I could to my chest as I sobbed. I could feel the moisture tracing dirty tracks down my dirty cheeks.

I was beginning to hate Bruce Wayne.

"Because we were less then impressed with your response to our last video," my captor was talking. "You now have 12 hours to pay the money. Or we'll do more then just break bones."

BMBMBM

Bruce stared at the screen for a long, slow moment after the video had ended. His eyes turned cold, looking at Tim.

"Get that IPP address." He growled.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I could only see one good thing about having my arm broken. My captors hadn't been so callous as to tie my hands up again.

But that was about the only consideration they showed.

So I lay there, thinking about how I'd gotten into this mess, how a father wasn't that important to me, and as soon as I was out of this mess I was going straight back to Australia.

That was when the smoke bomb came rolling into the room.

It went off, and my captors started shouting, reaching for weapons they could no longer find because of the smoke.

I reached down with my left, unbroken, arm, feeling for the knots in the rope around my ankles.

I didn't know what was happening, but I was gonna try and get out. Who knows how long until a rescue attempt was mounted, even if this wasn't one?

My vision was blocked by the smoke, but I could still see shapes, one falling to the ground from a kick from another, one being slammed into a wall. And one giant bat shaped silhouette coming right at me.

I shrieked, wiggling back, even with my feet still tied. What the hell was that thing?

It landed beside me, and I could tell it was a man, dressed up as a bat. Fleeting disbelieving thoughts dashed through my mind, but a flick of his hand, and the knife he held cut through the ropes that held my feet, and I was free.

He grabbed me, without a word, mindful of my arm, and hauled me to my feet. Without needing any further encouragement I ran for the exit, moving along the wall so I wouldn't get lost in the slowly dissipating smoke. And hopefully I'd be a little less conspicuous to any of my captors still standing.

Suddenly my hand along the wall met nothing but air. The exit! I ducked through it, trying not to move my ribs too much. They still hurt from the kick my captors had given me to wake me up. I stumbled along, trying to ignore the feelings of freedom that were creeping up on me. I wasn't out of the woods yet.

Especially with the creepy guy in the batsuit behind me still.

I turned around the corner, still looking behind me, when a hand shot out and grabbed my neck, cutting off my scream and pushing me against the wall, and suddenly a gun was cocked right in my face.

"Not a word, bitch."

Ok…so the weird guys in leather had missed a guy. Just my luck.

Foot steps rounded the corner, and I hoped it was the cavalry. I didn't know what would happen to me if it was another goon.

I almost sighed in relief when it was a guy dressed in a black and blue leather suit, but, well, the guy still had a gun in my face and his hand around my throat. The situation didn't really call for relief.

"Don't come any closer." The man snarled, and started tightening his grip on my throat. I gasped as my air supply was cut off, my good hand struggling futilely to pull his loose.

"Let her go."

"Get away now!" the thug ignored the masked mans order. "Now! Or I blow her brains out."

My gaze was getting darker. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs. Slowly my hands stopped pulling at my captors, and before I knew it, I was gone.

BMBMBM

Dick saw Elizabeth's eyes flutter closed and acted, a birdarang spinning through the air and hitting the mans hand that was holding the gun. The kick that followed broke not only the hold the man had around Elizabeth's throat, but also his arm.

Elizabeth fell to the ground, coughing as air made its way into her deprived lungs as Dick moved in to finish the guy off, one snap kick sending the man to sleep.

Dick knelt down in front of Elizabeth, standing her up with hands under her arms, before swinging her up into his arms when it became apparent she wasn't walking anywhere under her own power.

"I got you."

BMBMBM

When I woke it was to the sun shining through a window a few metres from my bed, and to my arm in a cast. A tightness around my ribs told me they had been strapped. Looking around the first thing I saw was dozens and dozens of different types of flowers in different vases all around the room. A machine next to me gave off a steady beep, and I blinked at it for a moment, slowly. My head was fuzzy.

"You're awake." A voice at the door interrupted my investigation of the machine, and I turned towards it, sleepily.

"Dick? You're alright?" I asked, remembering that the abductors had attacked him as well.

He smiled, and then spread his arms out as if to say, perfectly fine.

"It's you that everyone's been worried about." Dick said, before he turned around and called out to someone. "She's awake."

I went back to looking around the room, but my attention was drawn back to the door when Bruce stepped through it, carrying another vase of flowers, these ones roses. I raised my eyebrows. This was getting excessive.

"I hope they're for next door." I said frankly. "Because I don't know if you'll be able to find anywhere to put them in here. This place is starting to look like a florist."

Dick snorted while Bruce looked vaguely sheepish.

"I never did get around to finding out your favourite flower." He said, placing the flowers in a corner of a room that was slightly less over pollinated then the rest of the room.

"Thank you." I said softly. "They're beautiful."

I struggled to sit up. It was hard with one arm. Bruce's arm around my shoulders helped me get into a comfortable position, before I looked at Bruce and Dick, who had taken seats beside my bed seriously.

"Did they get all the kidnappers?" I asked.

"They did." Bruce said solemnly.

I nodded, settling back into the pillows that had been placed behind me. "Who was it that saved me?" I asked curiously. I wasn't really up to speed with all the superheros. We didn't have that many in Australia.

"You don't know about Batman?" Dick asked, looking disbelieving, and I shook my head, then winced. That kinda hurt.

"Nope." I said. "I'd probably remember a guy named 'Batman'."

"He's a vigilante who runs around Gotham doing our jobs." A voice from the door said, and I looked up to see a man in a trench coat. He had greying hair and a moustache.

"My names Jim Gordon." He said, introducing himself as he walked forward. "I'm the Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department."

I raised my eyebrows. Wow.

He interpreted my surprise correctly, smiling. "Your case is fairly high profile, Miss Morgan." He said. "I wanted to make sure it was handled correctly."

"And if you want something done right, do it yourself." I added, and he let out a surprised smile.

"Exactly right Miss Morgan." He said. "Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

I bit my lip, looking at Bruce. He placed his hand over my uninjured one, squeezing gently.

"Ok." I said, trying to ignore the slight tremble in my voice.

His eyes softened as he pulled up a chair. "I know you've been through a trying experience, Miss Morgan, so any time you'd like to stop, just tell me. We don't need much from you, the kidnappers having already been caught."

I nodded, setting my jaw. "I'll be fine."

"Alright so…"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The lady who was applying makeup to me was a bitch. I'd figured that one out about 5 minutes into it. When she had started commenting how hard it would be to cover up the bruises around my neck with makeup.

The lady doing my hair was a lot nicer. She liked to talk, but she wasn't complaining like Angela the makeup artist was.

Why was I getting made up like a life sized barbie doll you ask?

Because my father had organised a press conference. I'd agreed of course, but that was before I knew what work it was to just get ready!

I'd already been stuffed into some designer jeans and an Armani polo shirt, which come to think of it, probably cost more then my entire wardrobe at home.

Now wasn't that humbling?

"Just a little more." Maria said, tugging my hair with the straightener, before going to work on my newly cut side fringe.

I was happy to let her do it, I shudder to think what my hair would have been like if I'd been forced to do it with one hand. Or worse…have one of the boys do it.

Angela finished with the mascara, before turning and putting it back in her makeup bag.

I thanked god as she started to pack up. She would be gone! Yay!

Maria turned me around in the swivel chair before she surveyed me critically. Finally, she nodded, and I took a deep breath. If she was finished, then that would mean I could no longer delay the press conference.

"You look great." She said kindly, before she went about collecting her equipment.

"Thanks." I said softly, before standing. I bit my lip, before squaring my shoulders and walking out the room.

Dick was waiting for me, standing as I left the room.

"Ready?" he asked, smiling wryly, and I scowled.

"It depends on what you mean by 'ready'." I said. "If you mean ready to possibly make a fool of myself, sure."

He grinned. "Nah, just show em some of the old Wayne charm."

I snorted. "Trust me." I said. "If I inherited anything from Bruce, it wasn't his charm."

Dick just smiled, leading me to the door of the room the hospital had generously provided for the press conference. Of course, after Bruce had made a sizeable donation.

Guards had already been placed on either side of the door, presumably to check press passes as the press made their way in.

No one else was around now, so they must have all been in the conference room already.

"You'll do fine." Dick whispered in my ear, before at his nod the security guards opened the door, and he was leading me through.

Lightbulbs blinded me as flashes on cameras went off. I was tugged down into a seat next to Bruce, his hand wrapping around mine under the table.

He covered the microphone in front of him, before turning and whispering to me. "Welcome to the frying pan."

"We'll take questions now." He said, turning back to the mic.

Immediately hands shot up.

"Miss West." Bruce said, nodding to a lady wearing a garish green skirt/suit combo in the front. Was this the same Sally West that rang me less then a week ago? God it felt like months.

"This is a question for Miss Wayne." She began, and I leant forward to the mic.

"It's Miss Morgan." I said hesitantly, and suddenly there was a flurry as all the reporters in the room jotted that down on their notepads.

"Yes, well, Miss Morgan." Sally said, looking at me like I was some sort of insect that crawled in under the door. "What would you say to the rumours that you're not really Mr. Wayne's daughter, but someone who staged the kidnapping in order to extort a large amount of money from your supposed father?"

My breath caught in my throat. What?

"Excuse me?" I asked quietly, and I knew I was going pale.

"Miss West, those rumours are unfounded." Bruce said, his eyes flashing angrily. "I haven't even told Elizabeth about those rumours because there is absolutely no way they can be true."

"Just reporting the facts." Sally West said sweetly, and it was only Bruce's hand squeezing mine that kept me in my seat and not running to the exit.

"Why the hell did you keep this from me?" I hissed, remembering to cover the microphone only at the last moment.

"It didn't matter." Bruce said. "All that mattered was you feeling better."

I sighed, trying to ignore the flashes of the cameras going on around us.

"Next time something like this happens, maybe a heads up?" I scowled, before turning back to the woman who was looking way too smug.

"To tell you the truth Miss West." I said, trying to keep my voice level and cool. "Any idiot who thought probably wouldn't be worth my time."

Bruce covered a laugh with a cough, before taking a sip of water to cover a smile as titters of laughter floated around the room.

Thank god I hadn't taken that interview with this idiot.

Bruce took control again, nodding to another lady, who stood. When I looked at Bruce, I saw a real spark of energy in his eyes. I frowned slightly. I wonder what that's about.

"Lois Lane, Daily Planet." She introduced herself. "What gave you hope during the kidnap that Mr. Wayne would pay the ransom?"

I looked around, uncertain. "I didn't know he would." I said at last. "To tell the truth, I didn't think he'd even consider it. I didn't have hope when those men had me, but I should have. Gotham has its fair share of heroes."

She smiled, and sat down, jotting something on her notepad. A man next to her with glasses stood up, bumping into the chair in front of him clumsily. A brief apology was mumbled before he looked up at me, adjusting his glasses.

"Clark Kent, Daily Planet." He said. "How did it feel to find out you had a father after 20 years?"

"I – ," I paused, considering my words. How did I feel? How did I feel that I suddenly had a father, who, because of his status as the 'prince' of Gotham, had gotten me kidnapped?

"When alls said and done, I'm still a little scared I'm gonna wake up and find out its all a dream." I said softly. "I'm glad Bruce and I found each other, and I'm glad I still have the chance to get to know him."

The rest of the press conference went without a hitch, and then Bruce led me out of there with a soft but firm hand on my lower back, Dick following, before leading me with a security escort down to the carpark of the hospital where Alfred waited with the Mercedez.

"We're going back to the Manor, and then you're going to bed." Bruce said sternly. "Alfred will bring your meals to you. I have a laptop waiting for you at home, and Tim's already moved one of the TV's into your room, so you have absolutely no need to get out of bed for anything except the bathroom."

I snorted. "It's a broken arm, Bruce. Last time this happened Mum couldn't keep me from climbing trees, let alone keep me in bed."

I stifled the sigh as I thought of my mother.

"But last time this happened did you have severely bruised ribs as well?" Dick snarked.

"No, but you will if you don't stop fussing about this." I said sweetly.

"Ooh, already threatening violence." Dick teased.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked, pouting.

"Do we need to split you two up?" Alfred asked as we approached.

I smiled, shaking my head. Despite our rocky start, I thought me and Dick were going to get on just fine.

BMBMBM

True to his word, Bruce had organised for a laptop with wireless internet and a TV to be brought into my room.

I took one disdainful look at the set up and grabbed the laptop and the internet boxes, slinging them under my good arm with only a little difficulty and walked out of my room, making my way down the stairs and to one of the lounge rooms where I knew the others were sitting.

I ignored the amused looks Dick and Tim gave me, plonking myself down in a comfy arm chair, and picking at the tape that held the laptop box together.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Bruce scowled.

I grinned. "Well, I never got IN bed, so I don't know how I can be OUT of bed."

Tim let out a surprised laugh, as Bruce's scowl deepened. "I don't want you to injure yourself any further by not taking the rest you need." He said, and I rolled my eyes.

"I've rested heaps already in the hospital. And I'm not gonna injure myself more." I said. "My arms in a cast, and unless any of you decide to punch me in the ribs, they're gonna be fine as well."

Tim finally took pity on me and took the laptop box away from me to open it up.

"Elizabeth-," Bruce began, but I interrupted him.

"Bruce." I said firmly. "I haven't had a bed time since I was 14. you're not going to win this argument, so don't even try. When I get tired, I'll go to bed."

Bruce let it drop, but the stony look on his face let me know he wasn't happy with the situation.

"While you're up and about then, we can talk about offers you've gotten from several newspapers and current affairs programs." He said, and it was my turn to frown.

"I don't have to do I?" I asked.

Bruce shrugged. "I'm not going to force them on you." He said. "But it would be a good idea for you to accept some of them. It's better to get your story out then to let the rumour mill run rampant."

"Or we could not, cos most of the press today were pretty…"

"Blood thirsty?" Dick suggested.

I snorted. That was an understatement.

"There are a few members of the press that you could go to." Bruce said. "Some that I've had dealings with in the past can be trustworthy."

"Do you really think I should?" I asked sceptically. "I seem to permanently suffer from foot in mouth disease."

Bruce smiled, as Tim handed the laptop, plugged in, to me.

"Ms Lane and Mr Kent will do their best not to let you look like an idiot, don't worry." He said. "They're the ones I would choose for an interview."

"Anything's gotta be better then Sally West." I muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: to begin with, to the person that reviewed me saying certain things about my last authors note, please grow up. Fanfiction is a fun, personal creative outlet and I read it very often, more so then I write it, and when I read fanfiction I don't review the authors if their opinions on certain characters are different to mine. I just stop reading that particular fanfiction if it affects me that horribly. I wont lose any sleep if that's what you decide to do, but don't review my story to attack my opinion on certain characters. You have your own opinions, and I respect that, but please respect my own opinions, and the way I choose to write my stories. So again I say grow up. Any constructive criticism, however, is more then welcome.

And thank you to Michelle. I appreciated both reviews…Dick's one of my favourites in the batman series, although I will forever be a fan of the Arrow's over any other crime fighting group…go the Green Arrows!

Sorry to everyone who had to read my little rant to that one reviewer, but here's the story.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

"Miss Morgan? Lois Lane, Daily Planet. Pleased to meet you." The lady shaking my hand reminded me of someone who didn't take crap from anybody.

"And I'm Clark Kent." The man who shook my hand next was huge. Built like a brick, and looked like he'd be at home selling boy scout cookies.

"Well you sure ate your weetbix didn't you?" I murmured before I could help myself, before blushing as Bruce chuckled.

"Lois, Clark, its good to see you again." He shook both their hands.

"Thank you for choosing us for the exclusive, Mr. Wayne, Miss Morgan." Clark said, adjusting his glasses. "We promise we'll be nicer then Ms. West was."

"Won't be hard." I snorted, muttering under my breath.

Bruce covered up his amusement, before sitting down on a leather lounge, and gesturing me and the reporters to sit as well.

I did, plonking my butt down next to Bruce with a sigh. He was right about the needing to rest bit. I'd been up for two hours today and already I was feeling sleepy. Maybe it was the pain medication the doctors had given me for my ribs.

Something must have shown on my face because when I looked up, I saw Kent looking at me closely.

"Are you alright?" he asked gently, and I forced a smile onto my face.

"Peachy." I said. "I'm fine, just a little tired."

"Do you want to go back upstairs to bed?" Bruce asked immediately. "Mr. Kent and Ms. Lane can come back another time and-,"

"I'm fine Bruce." I said firmly. "I appreciate the concern, Mr. Kent, but I'll be fine."

"If you're sure." Kent said, before Lane whacked him one around the arm.

"Smallville, she said she's fine." She rolled her eyes at me, before opening her notepad, and I was grateful to her. "But, please," she added. "Call me Lois, and him Clark."

Before I could smile and nod, grateful for her kind words, she was off, firing questions at me. She didn't leave me long to answer them, before she'd go off on another tangent. I didn't always get what she was asking, but me and Bruce besides me did our best to answer.

Finally, the two reporters left, Bruce seeing them to the door of the manor as I sat in the sitting room we'd had the interview. God I was tired. I leaned my head against the back of my chair, closing my eyes for a minute, dozing off lightly.

When I woke, someone had shifted me so I was lying down on the couch, with a blanket over me and a pillow underneath my head.

I woke with a start, feeling rather then seeing at first someone kneeling in front of me. Bruce.

He gave me a soft kiss on the forehead, before walking out the door, leaving behind a small box on the coffee table besides the lounge.

For a few moments I stared at it, wondering what it was, before I gave in and fell asleep again. It could wait.

BMBMBM

When I woke again only half an hour had passed. Sitting up, remembering the little box Bruce had left, I reached for it with my good arm, opening it carefully.

Inside lay a pair of diamond earrings. They would have cost a years salary at that fish and chips shop I was working at.

"Wow." I breathed, a little speechless. I couldn't wear those! I'd lose them. I had to give them back.

I got up with a grunt, pushing the blanket aside and standing woozily, wincing at the twinge in my ribs. I must have slept through my pills.

Holding my head gently with one hand, I made my way down the stairs to the kitchen where I heard voices.

I stepped inside, blinking a little while clutching my ribs. First things first, I thought as I stepped around Alfred and Dick, the pain medication.

I stifled a wince as I reached up and grabbed my pills down from shelf above the fridge.

"Miss Elizabeth, are you quite alright?" It was Alfred, taking a glass from me and filling it with water.

"Freaking peachy." I said, swallowing the two small pills and following it with the entire glass of water.

"Where's Bruce?" I asked stonily, and Dick exchanged a glance with Alfred before answering.

"He went out." He said. "Something about dinner with some business associates."

"Great!" I said, angry. The old give a present and then disappear before someone can object trick. I ignored the curious looks Alfred and Dick were giving me, before stomping back up to my bedroom.

If Bruce thought he could buy my love with a laptop and pretty earrings, he was wrong.

Grabbing the laptop I slammed it into the cardboard box it came in, struggling with one hand to wrap the cord up, but I managed.

I closed the box before turning to the earrings. They were pretty but I wasn't going to keep them.

I grabbed a piece of paper from the desk in the room, and a pen, but before I could write anything a voice at the door stopped me.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?" It was him, of course. I stayed where I was, resisting the urge to flip him off, or to scream at him.

"I'm fan-freaking-tastic, Bruce." I said, turning at last. Stomping over to the bed, I picked up the box that had the earrings, before throwing it at Bruce. "What the hell is that?"

He looked surprised. "They're a present for you." He said. "Why, don't you like them?"

His expression was so earnest that I had to laugh. It was a sad little chuckle, and you could hear the tears I wouldn't allow myself to shed in it.

"Bruce, I can't wear those."

"Why not?" he stepped further into the room.

"Why n-," I started to repeat but stopped the urge to shout. It was like talking to a child. "Oh, I don't know, Bruce. Maybe because one of those damn things would cost more then my entire years pay! I don't want expensive gifts, Bruce."

Bruce sighed as he stepped closer to the bed, to me, as I slumped down to sit, my shoulders hunched.

"I'm sorry." He said, and it sounded so heart felt I had to look up, even as he sat down next to me on the bed. "I didn't realise you would take offence."

I sighed, realising for the first time what a bitch I'd been. He'd honestly been trying to do something nice, and I'd literally thrown it back in his face. It had probably been a small gesture on his part, even though I was freaking out about it. What he'd paid for the earrings probably cost less then some of his suits.

"Look, Bruce." I started, running a hand through my hair, sighing. "I just…I just don't want you feeling like you have to buy me things. I don't want that from you." I said. "I just want to be your daughter. I want to get to know you. Go places with you. Ice skating, or hiking or something."

"I don't think you'd do very well at either of those at the moment." Bruce said, smiling, and I scowled, elbowing him with my good arm.

"You know what I mean." I said. "And I'd manage."

Stubborn, me?

"Ok then." Bruce said, before scratching his chin thoughtfully. "How do you feel about food?"

I frowned. "I'm fairly fond, why?"

He smiled. "The business dinner I attended tonight consisted of a very artful mountain of salad." He said. "You'd think seeing as I own the restaurant I'd be able to have them make some real food."

I snorted, as he continued.

"And if I'm not mistaken, you slept through dinner yourself."

I sighed, trying to ignore the rumbling in my stomach now that we had brought up the issue of food.

"Yep."

"Come on."

BMBMBM

To my great surprise Bruce drove us (himself, he actually drives!) to a diner in the slightly less then upperclass part of town. But it was the best burger I'd ever had.

"Look, Bruce." I started as we waited for our apple pie. "I'm sorry I went all spaz on you about the earrings. It was a really nice gesture and I was a complete bitch about it."

He reached across the table, covering my hand with his and squeezing it gently. "It's okay. I guess I misjudged what your reaction would be."

I laughed. "Well, unless you were aiming to be yelled at, then yeah, I'd say so."

He laughed as well, and I found I liked it. It was nice. Comforting almost.

It was becoming familiar.

We were interrupted by two things happening at once. Our apple pie came, dropped in front of us with a not so platonic smile at Bruce by the waitress, and the other thing, the door smashing open as four armed men wearing black stormed in.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared, even as one of them held the gun up to the ceiling and fired a couple of rounds up into it.

"Everyone on the ground now!" One of them screamed, swinging his gun around to point at different people in the diner. My senses came back to me, and suddenly I wasn't sitting frozen anymore.

I crawled under the table Bruce and I were sitting up, shaking. I didn't want to be kidnapped again. I couldn't take it.

I tugged on Bruce's pants leg, wanting him to get even further down beneath the table. He did, before looking at me with a grimace, looking at me shaking with worry.

"You have to calm down," he said, squeezing my shoulder gently as booted feet began walking around, passing our table.

I bit my lip, nodding, taking deep breaths as I closed my eyes, trying to get myself under control. this wasn't like the kidnapping, I told myself. These guys just wanted money, and then to get out.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Bruce press a button I hadn't noticed before, on his belt. That was weird. Why would he need a button on his belt? Panic alarm? That would make sense. He was rich enough to need one. But would it go straight to the police? What was going to happen?

Then a hand was reaching under our table, grabbing my hair and pulling me from my safety, as I screamed in terror, my ribs protesting at the rough treatment.

I noticed to my left another woman had been taken from the other side of the room, and was being held with a gun to her head as well.

"Quiet, bitch." The man holding me said, and I did as I was told, whimpering still.

"Alright!" the leader said in a loud voice. "If you all cooperate, neither of these pretties will get hurt. So give us all your money, and we'll leave."

I was shaking so bad now I didn't think I'd have been able to stand if it wasn't for the tight hold my captor had on me.

One by one the leader and the other man not holding a hostage went around to everyone on the ground, grabbing wallets, jewellery and watches.

Bruce was the last one, grabbed roughly out from under the table. I shut my eyes as he was belted in the stomach. Some of the other men had been given this treatment. Maybe it was because they looked like they might be able to put up a fight?

"Well, well, well." The leader said as he realised who Bruce was. "If it isn't the Prince of Gotham." Then he turned around and peered at me closer. "And Gotham's latest princess. I think you two can add some real value to the booty."

"Whatever you want." Bruce said, not looking at the thug when he answered. Instead he was looking at me, his brown eyes staring into mine as if to say, it'll be alright. I bite my lip, his comforting look helping me stop my trembling. "Just don't hurt Elizabeth."

"We won't if you give us everything you have." The leader agreed smiling ruthlessly, and Bruce unlatched his watch and was about to hand it over when the windows to the diner exploded, and three coloured blurs took out two of the men.

I was yanked closer to the thug who had a tight grip on my hair, and the gun shoved even further into my neck, so much so that I was having trouble breathing. Or maybe I was just hyperventilating. I didn't know which.

Someone had just gasped out 'oh god', and detachedly I realised it was me.

"Elizabeth!" Bruce tried to reach towards me, but the gun in his face stopped him.

"Bruce." I whispered, eyes wide as I trembled. Why did I ever come to Gotham again?

Oh yeah. The whole long lost father thing.

I looked at the three vigilantes who had burst in. Robin and Nightwing were two of them, unless I was mistaken. It was the third that had me stumped. Tight red muscle shirt, and tight pants, gun holsters and other weapons openly displayed around his body. His auburn hair was cut close to his head, and his face looked like he'd seen a few fights of his own. Sunglasses sat on top of his head and his blue eyes stared into mine as I clutched at the hand in my hair, holding me to the thug.

There was no way they could help me like the last time. Not that they didn't look like they were going to try.

Muscles had a gun pointed directly at my thugs head, while Robin and Nightwing had their own weapons pointed at the guy who had Bruce held at bay with the gun.

I looked back to my father. It was weird, how just minutes ago we'd been laughing, joking about a father daughter spat, and now it looked like just as we'd forgiven each other, we were about to die.

Sometimes life just sucked.

His eyes were pleading, as if he was begging me to do something. What? Not die? Well, Brucie, I'd do my best.

Then his eyes flicked almost too quickly for me to notice back to the new guy, and I looked back at him.

He had a serious, almost apologetic look in his eyes, and in that heartbeat, I knew what he was going to do.

He was going to take the shot.

I just hoped he didn't suck with a gun. That would be just my luck. I get stuck with the vigilante who couldn't aim.

Well, I thought, steeling my resolve. He was going to take the shot, I was gonna try and help him as much as I could.

I jerked my head to the side, keeping eye contact with him the whole time as I tried to ignore the sharp pain in my head when my hair was pulled.

The man gave a miniscule nod, and I threw myself to the side as hard as I could, crying out involuntarily at the pain of my hair being pulled out of my scalp, along with the fear that the bullet that had just exploded from the gun of my would-be saviour would actually hit me.

When I got down I crawled as fast as I could, trying not to feel like I was cowering against the table as Nightwing and Robin took out the guy who had been holding the gun to Bruce.

The man – the one with the excellent aim, I might add – quickly had the thug tied up with some plastic ties, before he stepped over him, which actually involved stepping on the thug, stopping in front of me to kneel down, a half smile on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and I nodded, slightly speechless.

"Am now." I said, before accepting his hand to help me to my feet. When I looked to my left, Bruce was being helped up by Nightwing, while Robin was making sure the men were completely secure.

"Thank you." I said solemnly, and his smile widened, his hand holding mine for slightly longer then was appropriate for someone just helping someone to their feet.

"Any time." He said, still staring into my eyes, until flashing lights and loud sirens started to make themselves known a little way down the street.

He turned, and I found Nightwing and Robin doing the same, hurrying a little more then my saviour out the door.

"Wait!" I called out, ignoring Bruce's presence by my side. "Who are you?"

He turned back and smirked. "The name's Arsenal. See you around."

Then he was gone, and the cops were swarming the place, transferring the criminals into cuffs while me and the other girl who'd been held up as hostages were shepherded to an ambulance.

I snapped out of it when a torch was flashed into my eyes. they were checking for shock and head wounds.

I squinted away from the light before turning away, grumbling out, 'I'm fine.'

"Elizabeth, you need to get yourself checked out." Bruce said, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'm fine, Bruce." I said, before staring up at him and making my eyes go as wide as possible. "Can we just go home?"

He sighed, before turning to the paramedic and nodding.

Bruce: 0. Puppy dog look: 1.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I slept in the next morning. I figured it was my right. I'd been used as a hostage last night. By god I was going to milk that as much as I could.

Hey, maybe Bruce would buy me a car for compensation?

I shut that thought down quickly. I wasn't going to start thinking of Bruce that way. He wasn't gonna buy any love from me. And I wasn't gonna try and guilt him into buying me things for the crappy experience his home town had given me so far.

When I woke, Alfred was knocking on the door.

"Miss Elizabeth," he called through the door. "You have a visitor."

I groaned, poking my head out from the mound of pillows and blankets I'd taken to piling on to keep the winter chills away. Snow was so weird.

"Tell them to wait until some decent hour." I grumbled. "It's not even twelve yet."

A distinctly male laugh from the hallway made me freeze. I didn't know whoever it was out there.

But Alfred wouldn't let some weird person in would he?

"Who is it?" I asked Alfred cautiously, peeking out from my pillow fort once more.

"I believe he refers to himself these days as Arsenal, Miss Elizabeth."

My eyes widened and I squealed as I hid even further under my blankets.

"I'm not here."

"Very well, Miss Elizabeth." Alfred said. "I shall inform him of that, but I must warn you," Alfred paused, making sure I was looking up at him to see the sparkle of laughter in his eyes before speaking again. "He is standing behind me in the hall."

I groaned.

Of course he was.

I couldn't help but grumble as I got out of bed, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

Nervous? Me?

Nah.

I stomped over to my wardrobe, pulling a pair of jeans on underneath my nightie, before quickly snapping my bra in place and shoving a t shirt over my head.

I put my hair up in a messy bun, before walking to the door, opening it quickly, hoping it would be like ripping off a bandaid.

"Hi." He said, blue eyes sparkling as Alfred left us. He was wearing street clothes this time, a pair of jeans and a singlet, looking so hot.

"Hi." I said cautiously back. What was he doing here? Was he here to ask for payment? If he was I didn't think I'd be able to help him.

"Are you alright, from last night?" he asked, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I said. "Are you?" I asked, before blushing and stammering out, "I mean, they didn't hurt you did they?"

He smiled, looking a little surprised. I guess he wasn't asked that a whole lot.

"I'm fine." He said. "I think everyone's a little more worried about the princess of Gotham."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm far from a princess."

Arsenal smiled. "You can blame your father for the nickname."

I snorted. "I can blame him for a lot of things."

"Listen," Arsenal said at last. "I'm here because I think for saving your life last night, maybe you owe me?"

My eyebrows rose and I could feel myself getting angry. What kind of guy was this that he went around saving people and then ambushed them saying they owed him? Well, if he wanted money he'd have to go to Bruce for that. He wasn't going to get me to ask for him.

I think he must have seen me getting angry, because he elaborated quickly. "A date. That's all I want." He said, and I stopped ranting in my head.

"What?" I asked, in a choked up voice. That was hardly expected.

"Come to lunch with me?" he asked, suddenly looking a little nervous. "Ok, come to think of it, that 'you owe me' line was pretty bad, but I promise I won't be that tactless if you agree."

My lips quirked into a smile before I could help myself. "It might be nearly twelve, but I've just gotten up." I said, eyeing closely as a flash of disappointment flashed over his face. He thought I was saying no. "It'll have to be breakfast."

He grinned, before nodding.

"I'll be out in fifteen minutes." I said, before ducking back in my room and running to the ensuite to have the quickest shower a woman ever managed.

Throwing my clothes back on, I ran a brush through my hair, leaving it down, before adding a few swipes of the lip gloss and the mascara.

I looked at the clock. 17 minutes. Oh well. I'm sure he could wait.

I pulled on a pair of shoes, before grabbing a jacket and a scarf, and leaving my room.

He wasn't there, but Alfred had turned up again in his absence.

"He went down to converse with Master Dick." he said, and I nodded, following him as he led me through the maze of corridors to where Dick was. Why he was still around, I didn't know, I'm sure he had to get back to his job in Bludhaven.

Why Arsenal was having a conversation with him was another big question.

I walked into Alfred when he stopped, surveying the room before entering, a questioning air about him. I frowned at him, wondering what was so goddamn interesting, before I turned the corner myself.

Dick had Arsenal by the shirt and had him slammed up against the wall.

"Don't mess around with her, Roy," he snarled and my eyes widened, even as I stepped forward. Couldn't have my date used as a punching bag.

But 'Roy'? did Dick know the secret identity of Arsenal? And if so, why?

"Dick, let him go." I said angrily, pulling at one of his arms with my non broken one.

He stared into Arsenal/Roy's eyes for a moment longer before letting go, stalking away to the other side of the room to run his hand through his hair, shooting glares at Arsenal.

I followed him. "What the hell was that?" I hissed at him when I got close enough.

"I don't want you going out with him." Dick said. "He's bad news."

I rolled my eyes. "It's one date." I said. "And unless I'm mistaken time was, before the kidnapping you thought I was bad news as well."

I let him think on that for a little while, as I stalked out of the room. Without looking behind me I knew Arsenal was following.

"Don't mind Dick." I said. "He's…well, a dick."

Arsenal let his lips quirk up into a smile. "Yeah, well, considering he just gave away my first name, I'm going to have to agree with you on that one."

The comment was loaded, poised to see how I would react to knowing his name. "Listen, Arsenal, as far as I'm concerned, I didn't hear anything that came out of Dick's mouth if you didn't want me to. You saved my life last night. It'd be piss poor payment if I gave away your identity after that."

"Thanks." He let out a grateful sigh.

I shrugged. "No problem. But I've gotta ask where did he find it out? I don't think its something you go around telling all the cops in Bludhaven."

He smiled tightly, yep, he didn't want to talk about it. "I think its probably better if we just leave it."

I shrugged. "Okay."

He led me outside to his motorcycle, and I grinned. I'd already asked Bruce to let me try out some of his, but he'd said no, not without lessons first. I'd begged and pleaded, but he hadn't let me.

Riding tandem with Arsenal would be nearly as good.

He handed me a helmet, and I shoved it on my head after getting on the bike after him. I wrapped my arms firmly around him, and then we were off.

BMBMBM

Lunch was good. He took me to a slightly better then Denny's diner, and in a completely different part of the city then the one from the incident last night.

The company was even better. Arsenal/Roy was funny, without even realising it at times it seemed.

"So, before becoming a princess," Roy smirked. "What did you do for a living?"

I snorted. "I worked at a fish and chips shop to put myself through university." I said. "A little less exciting then vigilante."

He smiled softly. "We're just normal people." He said, and I snorted.

"Oh yeah, you maybe." I said. "But what about Superman? The guys an alien that can fly. And shoot lasers from his eyes. That's pretty far from normal."

Roy laughed. "Well, I'm a normal guy."

I rolled my eyes. Was this guy just not getting it? "After last night you're going to have a hard time getting me to believe that." I said softly.

We held each others gazes for a moment before it became awkward. I looked away, before frowning up at the sky. Was that…a bat?

"Arsenal." I said quietly, peering up at the sky still. "What's that?"

He looked at me, surprised. "That's the bat signal." He said. "You haven't seen that before? It's for when the cops need Batman's help."

I shook my head. "I'd heard of it." I said. "I'd just never actually seen it."

He sighed, before looking up at the signal again. "I should get going." He said, sounding regretful. "In case they need any help."

I sighed, but nodded. "Okay." He tossed a few bills on the table before standing up. I followed his lead, and he led me outside.

"Elizabeth, I'm really sorry to cut this short." He said. "And I really wish I had time to lead into this, but," then he leaned down and placing his lips to mine he gave me the gentlest kiss I'd ever felt. It left me breathless, and when he pulled away I had two twenty dollar bills wrapped up in my hand. I blinked down at them. What the?

"I'd drive you home," Arsenal said. "But the signal calls. Get yourself a cab home. Tell Bruce I'm sorry I let his daughter get into a cab."

I nodded, looking a little shell shocked still.

He gave me one last peck on the lips before hopping on his bike, revving the engine.

Then he was gone, and I was left with my hands to my lips, wondering what the hell just happened.

BMBMBM

"Need any help?" Roy asked, swinging down onto the rooftop where Dick and Tim were fighting off who seemed like the Riddlers thugs.

"Not from you." Dick said, before knocking out another goon.

"Come on, Nightwing, don't be like that." Roy said, slamming his own punk into the ground, before breaking the arm of another one who came at him with a knife.

"So what, you ditched her to come play with the boys?" Dick asked.

"No," Roy said, before slamming his fist into the last goons face. "I gave her money for a cab home, and then came here to help maybe save lives." He said angrily. "She understood that."

"She shouldn't have to understand that." Dick yelled, punching another thug, although he was already down.

"So what?" Roy asked angrily. "You're not going to tell her your little secret? She deserves to know why she's gonna be in more danger then just what being his daughter would bring."

"She shouldn't be dragged into this world." Dick shouted, storming up to Arsenal.

"I think she's already in as far as she can get." Roy said, glaring. "She's stronger then she looks. I know that after five minutes with her! Maybe instead of shutting her out, you should let her in on your secret!"

"Oh yeah," Dick yelled back, shoving Roy hard enough he nearly lost his balance. "And then when she runs for the hills? Are you going to be the one to bring her back?"

"Both of you calm down!" Robin yelled, finished with restraining the Riddlers thugs. "It doesn't matter anyway. We're not the ones who'll have to decide."

He nodded to a shadow perched on a building next to theirs. Batman.

Batman nodded to Roy once, before disappearing off the balcony.

Just what that nod meant, however, Roy had no clue.

BMBMBM

"How long has she been like this?" Bruce whispered to Alfred as they peeked in on Elizabeth in the Kitchen.

"Since she came home from lunch with Master Harper." The butler answered, and Bruce grimaced.

"And she's cooking?" he asked.

"Baking cookies, sir."

Bruce rarely swore. He rarely felt the need to. But he was definitely starting to feel like saying some choice words.

"And you think it's because of Harper?" he asked, sighing resignedly.

"I hate to say it, Master Bruce," Alfred said, watching him with a pitying look in his eyes. "But I think that must have been a wonderful lunch to have young Miss Elizabeth smiling like she hasn't done since she arrived here. You may have to let Master Harper continue his courtship of her."

"Or maybe I just have to distract her so she doesn't think about him."

BMBMBM

Oh no, what's Bruce come up with now?

Stay tuned…hopefully my internet modem won't crap itself again so I can update in a timely manner…its hell without the internet.

I'd love to hear what you think, or if you have any constructive criticism.


	10. Chapter 10

To everyone who is adding my story, or me to their author/story alerts thank you very very very much. I've never had that kind of response to my writing before, and every time I get the email telling me I have someone else who is looking out for an update, it makes me smile…almost as much as when I think of my darling new niece. (I'm very excited about the little bundle of perfection…I've been telling everyone, even the people I don't like lol.)

I love all your reviews, thank you heaps and heaps and heaps.

I'm so sorry for taking so long in the update, thanks for your patience guys!

Chapter 10

I had just finished dressing after hopping out of the shower when Bruce called me down the living room.

I frowned. What could he want now?

"What's up?" I asked as entered the room.

"I have a surprise for you." Bruce said, and a politely puzzled look came across my face.

"What's that?" I figured I should just play along. Bruce had been giving me 'surprises' for the last week now, and he didn't seem to take 'no more' as an answer.

So far the Lamborghini he'd had shipped from Italy was just collecting dust in the garage next to his many other expensive toys. Tim was going crazy. Bruce wouldn't let him test drive it until I'd driven it myself, but I felt no need to touch the thing. If Bruce had really wanted to get me a car I'd drive, he should have gotten a corolla or something.

Then there were the little things that just kept popping up. On my bed when I left the shower there would be small Tiffany's boxes with earrings, bracelets, necklaces. In my bathroom when I woke up there would be expensive soaps and perfumes. In my closet new designer clothes appeared mysteriously.

And that was all on top of the presents he gave me to my face. Like the car. But I guess that one was a little too big to fit in my bedroom, though if it was feasible, I'm sure he would have attempted it.

I had a new iPod, and thousands of dollars worth of download gift cards in a drawer at my computer desk.

Not to mention the new prototype of the upgraded iPhone that wasn't even out in stores yet.

Of course, like the car I didn't use ANY of this. It was like Bruce had ignored my 'I don't want fancy presents' speech. I wore my old clothes, my old jewellery, listened to my old music, all of that.

I think it was time to put a stop to this.

"I was thinking about our talk we had in the diner before the unfortunate incident." He said, smiling. "And I know I don't seem to have enough time to spend with you while we're in Gotham."

Uh oh. I didn't like where this was going.

"So," with a slight smile on his face, all charm yet again, Bruce handed me a flyer.

I looked down at it quickly, trying to hide my grimace. A family trip to Europe? Granted, it would be lovely, but I doubted I could stand not thinking about it still being an expensive bribe.

"Bruce, this is lovely, bu-," I started to say, but he interrupted.

"Fantastic." He said, leaping forward and wrapping an arm around my shoulders gently leading me to the stairs. "You should start packing, we leave in three hours."

I froze, and he was forced to either drag me along or stop with me.

"Today?" I asked, incredulous. "But you know I'm going to lunch with Arsenal."

And he did know. All week long since the fateful day he'd started bringing home gifts, he'd been trying to keep me from any outing with Roy. Roy, who'd been nothing but nice about my suddenly chaotic schedule Bruce put me under, taking me to lunch, and dinner, or dragging me along to events I had no interest in, until finally I snapped, telling Bruce in no uncertain terms that today – Saturday, I was freeing up my schedule for something I wanted to do.

Bruce had the grace to try to look shocked, and it was then that I knew with absolute certainty that Dick had talked to him. I'd suspected it, of course, but I'd never had enough evidence until now that that was the case.

I freed myself from Bruce's arm, held carefully still around me shoulders, to glare at him.

"What's Dick told you?" I asked angrily, before shaking my head, flinging the travel brochure back at him. "You know what, I don't care. I've had it. I'm going home."

If possible he became even stiller.

I didn't care though. I was angry. "I mean," I started. "What were you thinking? That I wanted a car, or jewellery, or Prada, or freaking Europe? What are you going to do next, Bruce, buy me my own continent? All this to keep me away from one of the only guys that's shown real interest in me. Ever. But hey, that could just be my unresolved 'daddy' issues coming to the surface!" I said sarcastically as I stormed up the stairs, determined to pack together my measly belongings and leave all the crap he'd tried to shove on me before he could stop me. I bet I could do it.

He wasn't even following yet.

I pulled out the suitcase from my cupboard. My duffel bag had been a casualty in the war against gifts. When I'd tried to give the suitcases back, my duffel bag had gone mysteriously missing.

I suspected it had gone in the bin long ago.

I threw my old shirts in, with my old jeans, my old laptop, mp3, and everything else I'd brought with me to the great land of America. But nothing more.

I wasn't even tempted to bring a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Not even the one that was my favourite colour.

Uh uh.

I swear.

That was when the tears came. Silently at first. I didn't even notice them until my breath hitched in a sob. I slumped down next to my monstrosity of a suitcase, a hand covering my mouth to hide the sounds of my crying. I hoped Bruce didn't see me like this. Then I'd never be free of him.

He'd beg and plead me to stay, to think rationally about what I was doing before I walked out the door. But I was rational. For the first time in weeks, I knew what I had to do for me. I had to leave, because my hopes of having a father who cared were being dashed pretty thoroughly by Bruce. All he cared about was his money.

Oh, and to make sure I didn't hang around dangerous vigilantes like Roy.

I shook my head, angry at myself. Me sitting here crying wasn't helping me escape from this nightmare of a reality any sooner.

My only sadness was that I probably wouldn't get to say goodbye to Roy any time soon. Even though we'd only been on one date and it had been cut short by the infamous bat signal, it had still been breathtaking. A whirl of emotions swirled in me as I stood, stomping to the bathroom, making sure my eyes weren't red rimmed from my tears before I left the safe confines of my room.

I dragged my suitcase behind me with a little difficulty. The doctors had said my arm could come out of the cast in three weeks, but until then I was stuck with the plaster. It made dragging that suitcase so much more difficult.

Another thing to blame Bruce Wayne for.

"Elizabeth." Bruce said tentatively from the doorway to the lounge room.

"You can't talk me out of this, Bruce." I said softly, ignoring the look in his eyes.

"Can I?" a voice from behind him in the door way made me stop.

Roy.

"I don't know," I said, even quieter now. This was playing dirty. I glared at Bruce, and he put his hands up in surrender.

"I didn't call him."

My eyes flickered to Roy. He shrugged, before walking up and placing a hand over the one of mine that was clutching the suitcase handle.

"I figured I should get here extra early to make sure you couldn't cancel on me again." He murmured, and I let go of the handle to turn my hand over in his, clutching it as I leaned into his chest, slight tremors running through me.

"It's just getting too much." I muttered, refusing to let the tears in my eyes fall.

"You know I'm here." Roy said, and I smiled in spite of myself.

"I know."

"And you know if you need me to punch someone or…" he trailed off as I let out a giggle. I couldn't help it. There was just something about Roy that made it so easy to laugh, to be carefree.

Bruce coughed indiscreetly, and I glared up at him, raising an eyebrow at him. I didn't trust myself to speak.

"Can I have Alfred put your suitcase back in your room?" he asked, and I scowled, thinking it over for a moment.

"Leave it packed." I said finally.

Then I was pulling Roy out the door, climbing onto his bike behind him.

"Take me somewhere." I said, and before I could wonder where that would lead, we were going.

BMBMBM

"So…" Roy said after dessert, and I looked up at him. We had barely spoken this whole time.

"Sorry about my freak out today." I said quietly. "I really appreciate you still coming to lunch with me."

He smirked. "How could I say no to you?"

I laughed, and it felt good. I didn't do enough of it back at the Manor.

"So," he said, almost too casually. "You're going back to Australia?"

I sighed, and looked away, to the river. Roy had taken me to a nice, non descript café for lunch, far away from the inner hub of the city, and even further away from the Manor.

"Bruce is just overbearing." I grumbled out before I could stop myself. "He thinks giving me expensive things is going to make up for the years he's missed, but that's not what I want." I sighed. "I've told him before, but I think he's just incapable of love unless it involves giving expensive gifts."

I rested my head on my hands, no longer in the mood to look at the river. His hand enveloped mine, squeezing gently.

"Maybe you should give him another chance." Roy suggested gently. "Maybe he'll be different."

I snorted, rolling my eyes to look up at him, not bothering to move my head. "Are you an expert on play boy billionaires all of a sudden?"

The grin on his face was secretive, and it had me wondering, before I shook it off. Don't ruin it now with stupid questions, Elizabeth, I told myself sternly.

"Maybe." He said, smirking, and I sat up, grimacing as I looked at my watch. It was getting late.

"I should be getting you home." He said, sighing, and I nodded reluctantly.

"We don't have to go home straight away." I said, trying not to sound too desperate to stay away from the Manor.

"If it means you staying in the country, I could stick around for a while longer." Roy said, and I froze, biting my lip and looking away.

He sighed, and it sounded almost like he said 'stupid' under his breath, but I couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry." Roy said quickly. "I shouldn't have said that."

I looked back at him, before trying a tremulous smile. "It's a deal. But if I have any more problems with Bruce, the deals off."

He grinned, before leaping up, putting some notes on the table to cover our lunch, and pulling me out the door.

"If you're staying, maybe you'd like to see the view?" Roy asked as he passed the motorcycle helmet to me.

I frowned, but before I could ask what he meant, he put a finger to my lips. "I'll explain in good time."

I sighed, but nodded.

Stupid, infuriating males.

BMBMBM

We ended up stopping at a group of warehouses on the opposite side of the river to the CBD. I frowned, still looking around, wondering what on earth he could have meant about seeing the view.

"Come on." He said, pulling me towards a building, before wrapping an arm tightly under my shoulders, pulling me to him. I gasped in surprise, my eyes flying up to his face to see a playful grin spreading across his lips.

"Hold on." He said, and before I could ask what he'd meant he had fired a gun into the air, and for a split second before we were airborne I realised it had a grappling hook attached to some rope. Then we were going up, faster then I would have liked any day, before we were suddenly released from the cord and flipping through the air, Roy catching me before I could fall, holding me in his arms bridal style for a moment, his eyes swimming with something darker.

I felt a flush hit my cheeks before I was righted, his arms on my elbows as he looked down at me. He looked like he was going to lean down and kiss me for a second, before he straightened with a sigh, taking my hand and leading me back to the edge of the roof we now stood on.

I gasped.

In front of me, dazzling with a million lights that shone like diamonds in the reflection in the river, was Gotham. It didn't look at all like the violent city I had become used to.

I said that to Arsenal, and he just smiled, before turning serious eyes to me.

"Don't ever forget that there are good people out there." He said softly.

I couldn't help but lean into his arms, burrowing my head into his warm chest against the cool night.

"It's hard to forget that when you're here." I murmured, but then looked up, my eyes troubled.

"Roy," I began, and he looked down at me, his eyes serious.

I thought back to my previous decision, not to complicate whatever this was by asking questions, but I had to know why Bruce and Dick were so determined to keep me from seeing him.

"Why doesn't Dick like you?" I asked. "And how does he know you?"

He stiffened at my questions, and suddenly he had stepped away from me, staring hard at the river.

I sighed, and moved to sit on the edge of the building, dangling my legs over the side.

"Sorry." I mumbled softly, hoping he'd hear. "I shouldn't have pried."

"It's not your fault." He said quietly. "To your first question." He sighed. "I suppose you could say Dick's been witness to some of my less then perfect decisions in relationships."

He turned back to me, sitting on the edge besides me. "Your last question I can't answer. It involves me telling you some things about Dick that I'm not sure he wants you to know." He looked uneasy, so I decided to let him off the hook.

"Thanks." I said resting my head against his shoulder.

"Any time." I heard the smile in his voice as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I snuggled into him for warmth, looking over the river of Gotham. I smiled. Maybe it was my time for happily ever after.

BMBMBM


	11. Chapter 11

Hi everyone,

I'm back. Sorry for the long wait. I don't really have an excuse at all.

This story has been complete and a sequel in process for quite some time now, and when I have finished editing the rest of the chapters I'll be uploading them as well.

So again, apologies for the long wait. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I've enjoyed writing it, and as much as I hope I enjoy writing the sequel.

I own nothing except Elizabeth.

When I got back home, Bruce was gone. Out on business, according to Alfred.

I didn't really care. I just went straight up to bed, smiling at the way my lips still tingled from where Roy had kissed me.

I was still smiling when I went to sleep.

I woke to find Bruce leaving a note by my bedside. I shifted, looking at him curiously as he froze.

"What are you doing?" I asked sleepily, before I remembered I was still meant to be mad at him.

"I was leaving this here." He said, and I scowled when I saw the brochure for Europe.

"It's not what you think." He said, and I rolled my eyes.

"It better not be." I warned.

"I was hoping maybe we could schedule it for Christmas." He said. "That way, if you still decide you don't want to go, you don't have to. I just," he paused, sighing, and I felt kind of bad for being such a bitch to him. "I just thought it would be something you would enjoy."

I looked at him suspiciously. "But we still get to get to know each before then, right?" I said. "And no more stupid expensive gifts like the car, or the jewellery?"

He smiled wryly. "Only for Christmas." He promised and I sighed in defeat. I wasn't going to win.

"What are you doing for lunch?" I asked on an impulse, and he looked at me, shocked.

"I suspect I'll be in a board meeting until two, and then I should have an hour before the next meeting. Why?" he asked, curious.

I shrugged. "How about I bring lunch to you?" I said, before smiling shyly.

He grinned back, and it was one of the first real, genuine smiles I'd seen on his face.

"Sounds like a plan." He said, before standing. "I'll see you at two. I'll let my secretary know to let you straight in."

I nodded, and he gave me a swift kiss on the cheek before he was off. Once he was safely out the door, I flicked open the brochure. Hmm, I thought…maybe Europe didn't look so bad after all.

BMBMBM

As a special treat for Bruce not being an asshole, I baked cookies for his dessert, making him a turkey sandwich from some leftovers Alfred had from the night before. Alfred was good about letting me into the kitchen, once I explained (for about the fifth time) that I liked cooking, and I wasn't trying to take the job of family chef away from him.

We drove to Wayne Enterprises, and I couldn't help the silly smile on my face as I thought of my life. Roy was great, Bruce was getting better… life was good.

That was until I got into the building.

It was all very well and good for Bruce to have told HIS secretary to let me straight through, but the person at the front desk didn't seem so well informed.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but without an appointment, you won't be able to see Mr. Wayne today." The woman repeated what felt like the tenth time.

"Look," I said, patience wearing thin. "I'm his daughter. If you just call up to his secretary, you'll find out you're supposed to just let me straight up." I shook the picnic basket at her. "I even brought his lunch!"

Immediately the woman's eyes froze on the basket. "Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to put the basket down." her voice was controlled, and she signalled to a security guard standing by the door. I almost groaned out loud.

Just my luck, an overzealous receptionist.

"You're kidding me, right?" I asked, my tone disbelieving as the security guard stepped up, crossing his arms, his feet planted firmly in an attempt to intimidate me.

"Is there a problem here, Lilah?" he asked the receptionist, and I didn't have to look at her to know that she nodded.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask that you follow me." He said, taking my basket. I let him as I rolled my eyes.

"And I'm going to have to ask one last time that you call up to Bruce's secretary, and let her know that I'm here." I snapped. "Before I call him myself."

I withdrew my cell phone, brandishing with all the confidence I would have if it was a sword.

"Elizabeth?" a voice sounded behind me, and I sighed in relief, grabbing my basket roughly off the security guard with a glare. Someone who knew me!

Of course, when I turned around I had no idea who it was.

"I'm Lucius Foxx." A greying man stepped forward, smiling as he held a hand out. "I work with your father." I shook his hand happily. Maybe now I would get somewhere!

"Maybe you can help me." I said, shooting another quick glare at the receptionist and the guard. "Bruce and I made arrangements to have lunch together this afternoon, but I can't seem to convince these two to call up to his secretary to confirm this."

"Ah," he said, nodding. "Yes, Lilah and Eric here are very…strict about who they let up into Wayne Enterprise. Sometimes too strict."

I didn't have to look back at Lilah or Eric to know they were shifting uncomfortably.

"If you come with me, I'll show you to his office." He said, and I sighed with relief. Finally!

"There's a Mars Bar cookie in it for you if you do." I said, grinning, and he laughed a surprised chuckle.

"With an offer like that, how could I refuse."

I giggled, following him to an elevator. The ride up to the floor or Bruce's office was a long one. It was on the highest floor, making me roll my eyes. Nothing halfway for him.

It wasn't so bad though, Lucius was easy to talk to. By the time we'd reached Bruce's office he knew more about me then I was really comfortable, but there was something about the way he asked questions that had you talking.

"Bruce!" I said with relief as he finally came into view. "This place is like a labyrinth!"

He laughed, clearing some papers from his desk almost absentmindedly before giving Lucius a look. I frowned, not really knowing what that was about.

"Thanks for bringing her up, Lucius." He said, before turning to me. "I hope you didn't have too much trouble before finding Lucius?"

I pursed my lips. To tattle on Lilah and Eric or not?

"No," I said, instead of telling Bruce what I thought of his staff. "None." After all, it was a good thing there was Lilah and Eric. What if I'd been some psycho looking to kill Bruce?

Well, I wouldn't let Lilah or Eric stop me, but it was a relief that they could stop some of the minor threats.

"I brought lunch." I showed him the basket, before turning to Lucius. "And," I rummaged through the basket, looking for the container with the cookies. "Your payment, as promised."

He shook his head. "Oh no, I couldn't."

"Go on…" I egged him on. "Come on, you can have one of Bruce's. He doesn't need the extra carbs if he's going to keep up the play boy billionaire thing he's got going."

That startled a laugh out of Lucius, and he accepted the cookie finally.

"Gee, Lucius," Bruce said, sounding a little put out. "If I'd known it only took a cookie to bribe you, I would have done it a long time ago."

Lucius smiled. "Well, Mr. Wayne, just pray your enemies never find out my weakness."

I giggled before pulling the rest of lunch out of the picnic basket.

Lucius left quietly while Bruce was looking over all the food, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I usually let Alfred have lunch off." He said mildly, and I rolled my eyes.

"Funnily enough," I said dryly. "Alfred isn't the only one in the household that knows how to cook. And they're only sandwiches."

He smiled gratefully, picking up his and taking a huge bite out of it.

I grinned, biting into my own.

"So…" I said after a while. "How's work been today?"

Lame question, I know, but I couldn't very well ask him anything else. I hardly knew the man.

"It's not bad." Bruce said. "We've just closed a deal to manufacture new equipment for the Gotham Children's hospital."

I smiled. My father the philanthropist. "That's good." I said.

"What did you do today?" Bruce asked.

"After you left I slept in." I said. "And then made lunch. Then came here. There wasn't much to do."

He frowned. "That doesn't sound like it kept you very busy."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well, its no boardroom meeting, I'll give you that."

He smiled ruefully. "I haven't been a very good father, have I?" he asked sadly, and I froze.

Despite how I'd gone off at him the day before for trying to bribe me with gifts, I knew he'd been trying. I just didn't know how to say that.

"I think," I said carefully. "That you've been trying hard. Doing what you think I want. And despite yesterdays…comments," I blushed scarlet, and he gave me an indulgent smile. "I have to thank you for that."

"I love you, Elizabeth." He said, his eyes unreadable. "You know that, right?"

I nodded, trying to ignore the misty feeling in my eyes.

"I know. I love you too," I said, before biting my lip. "Dad."

He froze, and so did I, wondering if I'd done the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I shouldn't have- I mean – um…" I was looking down at my hands, unable to form the sentences I needed to say sorry.

He was kneeling in front of my chair before I realised, holding my hand.

"I would like nothing better then for you to call me Dad." He said finally, and I broke into a smile, leaning forward to hug him, burying my face into his shoulder as he hugged me back, our sandwiches long forgotten.

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Before I left I made sure to stop off at the front desk again, beckoning Eric the Guard over while Lilah looked up at me with apprehension in her eyes.

I took a deep breath when Eric finally made his way over, looking at the two of them seriously.

"I, uh," I started, before steeling my nerves and making the final plunge. "I wanted to say thank you." I said at last. "Well, not really." I amended. "It was pretty annoying for me, but I wanted to say thank you for being so adamant. I'm glad to know you don't just let anyone up to see my dad, considering the loonies there are in this world. Especially in this town, I mean! Man, the things I've heard about that Joker guy…um yeah."

I cut myself off before I started to babble, peeking up at Eric's, then Lilah's face to see them smiling back.

"It's alright Miss Morgan." Lilah said diplomatically. "We're just doing our jobs."

I smiled wryly. "Its more then some would do."

I nodded to them before I left, swinging my picnic basket gently as I walked.

Lunch with Bruce was definitely something I was going to have to do again.

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"Hey." Tim said, entering my room.

"What's up?" I asked, raising an eyebrow his way before going back to surf the net. The people you could find on Facebook.

"Bruce told me about lunch." Tim said, flopping down on my bed as well. I looked at him, wondering what he meant.

"Does this mean you're going to start calling me bro as well?" he asked, grinning.

"Hmm…" I pretended to think about it. "Does this mean you'll become one of those stupid over protective types like Dick?"

Tim laughed, and I grinned. It was good to joke around with someone.

"I don't think there's a danger of that." He said. "No one could be as bad at the overprotective thing as Dick."

I snorted. "Oh I beg to differ. Bruce is just as bad, he just shows it differently."

"Oh?" Tim asked, an eyebrow raised, and I knew he knew exactly what I was talking about. He just didn't want to admit to it. Did that mean he'd been a co-conspirator?

"Yeah…" I said. "Like keeping me beyond busy so I couldn't see Roy, buying me crap that I don't want or need…" I trailed off. He got the picture.

He smirked. "So you picked up on what he was doing." He said. "I wasn't sure if you would."

I glared softly at him. I wasn't really angry. Not at him.

"Maybe if you think I'm going to start calling you 'bro' you should tell me next time Bru- Dad's going to try that crap."

He shrugged. "But that wouldn't be nearly so much fun."

I scowled, before whacking him in the head with a pillow, laughing at his stunned face.

Then it was on.

Somewhere during the fight one of the pillows burst, feathers flying everywhere, our laughter pealing through the air.

When the feathers stopped flying, settling in a mess over my bed, and all around my room, we slumped back on the bed, giggle breaking out on occasion.

When Alfred came in, knocking on the door before simply raising an eyebrow at the mess before walking out, our laughter began again.

It was nice to have a younger brother.


	12. Chapter 12

The next day was my first official outing at a Wayne function.

A charity luncheon for a clinic for abused women. I completely supported it. I knew most of it was for a tax cut, but if organisations like that could benefit from Bruce's business manoeuvrings, why shouldn't they take advantage of it?

Bruce had Alfred take me shopping the night before, even though it wasn't late night shopping. I guess if you were rich the normal retail shopping hours didn't apply.

Alfred helped me pick out something 'appropriate'. He deserved a medal after putting up with my complaining.

But I was dressed, primped, and ready to act the part of a Wayne child as I stood besides Bruce and Tim as Bruce greeted many of the different guests showing up.

To tell the truth though, it bored the hell out of me. Where was the good music? The grog?

When it came to the lunch portion of the event I was thrilled. Three courses and I'd be done!

I couldn't help but sigh with relief when I saw who was seated at the table with me, Bruce and Tim. Lucius sat there, a friendly face in a crowd of people I didn't know. A couple of tables over, much lower on the social echelon then the table I was sitting at, unfortunately, were Lois and Clark, reporters for the Daily Planet, there to cover the story on the clinic. It was too bad. I would have liked to have talked to them again.

But I so wasn't going to drag my stay there any longer then I had to. I was out of there as soon as lunch was done. Bruce had promised me three courses and I could leave.

But of course, when I tried to leave, one business partner or another tried to talk to me. Slowly, oh so slowly, I edged my way along to the wall, hoping to maybe blend in, though I knew it was impossible.

Suddenly a hand wrapped itself around my elbow. I jumped. I hadn't been paying attention. I looked up, eyes widening before I noticed who it was.

Roy.

Looking devilishly handsome in a tux.

"Roy." I breathed, before looking around frantically to see if anyone had noticed him yet. I didn't see anyone. I guess I was in luck.

"I thought I'd come and see if you'd need rescuing." He teased and I rolled my eyes.

"My hero." I giggled.

"Well you didn't seem all that enthusiastic when you told me about this." He shrugged. "I figured you might want someone to play your knight in shining armour."

"As long as I don't have to pretend to be the helpless damsel." I shot back, before turning, grabbing a few nibblies from a passing waiter and pulling Roy towards the door.

Time to go out and have some fun.

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I giggled as Roy led me by my hand to the Manor's door. Okay, so I'd had a little to drink, but Roy was taking it with good humour, an indulgent smile on his face. I didn't think I was that bad, but I knew I was in for some horror stories in the morning. Roy wasn't nearly so drunk. He'd only had a couple.

"Come on," I whispered as I tugged him up the stairs towards my room, before giggling hysterically. I don't know what at, but whatever it was, it was hilarious to my drunken self. I shushed him as if he was the one making all the noise. "Shh…we have to be quiet or Dad'll find out you're here!" I giggled again, before tripping on the stairs.

Roy's hands on my waist were the only thing keeping me from a face plant, and he pulled me up with a patience I wouldn't have imagined.

"Come on yourself." He said, his lips quirking into an almost smile. "We've got to get you to bed. I have a feeling you're not going to be up for breakfast tomorrow like we talked about."

I snorted, before giggling madly again. Why was that so funny?

"Why are you talking about breakfast now, silly?" I asked, stumbling up another stair, Roy's holding tightly onto my waist so I wouldn't fall again. "It's not even morning yet." I whispered conspiratorially.

He snorted, at me, or at my comment I didn't know. I didn't care, shushing him again as the noise echoed loudly.

When I stumbled up another stair he sighed.

"That's it." He said, before swinging me up into his arms bridal style. "I'm not letting you drink again."

I pouted. "I'm not drunk." I crossed my arms, glaring up at him. "I'm soberer then you."

"Soberer?" he raised his eyebrows as he stepped onto the landing of the stairs. We were going a lot faster now that I wasn't walking under my own power. "Is that even a word?"

"Course it is." I said, before yawning tiredly. Wow, that came on suddenly.

"Of course it is," he repeated, shaking his head ruefully as he walked carefully down the hallway to my room. He opened the door quietly, before carrying me in and placing me gently on the four poster bed, pulling the covers back before placing them over me.

I blinked sleepily up at him.

"I'll see you in the afternoon tomorrow." He said, and I frowned.

"What about breakfast?" I asked, my eyes already closing.

He laughed, startled. "Darlin', I don't think you're going to want breakfast tomorrow."

I didn't get what he meant, my mind already floating down into the dark sleep. I didn't care.

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Roy shut the door to Elizabeth's room as gently as he could, before turning around and freezing, before forcing himself to relax defiantly. He hadn't done anything wrong. He was not going to be intimidated by Bruce Wayne, Batman, standing in the hallway with a dark expression on his face.

"She won't be up for breakfast." He said. "She's going to be pretty hungover."

"You let her get drunk?" Bruce growled, before stepping forward towards Roy.

He stood his ground. "She's a grown woman." He said. "And capable of making her own decisions."

"Not when she's drunk." Bruce hissed, nearly at Roy now.

Roy looked on impassively. "I didn't let anything happen to her." He said finally. "And I didn't do anything she would regret in the morning. I'll be by tomorrow afternoon to pick her up."

He turned, leaving Bruce Wayne glaring at his back.

Time to get the hell out of dodge.

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I groaned as I woke, before a feeling made me shoot up, running to my ensuite. I made it just in time before I vomited up everything in my stomach, dry retching before I leant back against the wall, wanting nothing more then to curl up in a ball and die. My head was pounding, and I felt like I'd been put in a blender and had it turned up on 'high'.

"Miss Elizabeth?" I heard Alfred's voice through the door to the bathroom, just before the light was switched on.

"Shit!" I gasped out as my head spun with the sudden brightness, and I leaned over the toilet again, eyes closed, trying desperately not to let my stomach force itself out of my body through my mouth.

"Are you quite alright, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

I flipped him the bird, resting my head on my arms, shielding my eyes from the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights.

"Would you care for some breakfast, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked, and I almost growled. The thought of food right now made me sick.

"Yeah, maybe some McDonalds!" Tim piped up from the doorway, and I frowned as my stomach roiled. When had he gotten there? "A nice, big, greasy, double quarter pounder with cheese."

"Go away." I moaned, before they took pity on me.

"Sorry, sis." Tim said, coming into the bathroom, before pulling me gently from the toilet and the mess inside. Alfred stepped up and flushed it, and I winced. Man, that noise was loud when you have a headache.

"Let's get you up." Tim said, barely straining as he pulled me up to rest against his side as he pretty much carried me back towards my bed, almost giving me the illusion of walking by myself.

Almost.

He sat me back down before Alfred placed a cool towel on the back of my neck. I jerked up, away from it, opening my eyes before wincing.

"I'm never drinking again." I said, groaning.

Alfred's lips twitched in an almost smile and I glared. It wasn't funny in the slightest.

"Here you are, Miss Elizabeth." He said, placing a glass in my hand. A hangover cure, I assumed. Roy must have told them I'd be a little incapacitated.

I downed it all as fast as I could, gagging at the taste, but pretty soon I was feeling better.

I leant forward, resting my arms on my knees and my head in my hands. Tim rubbed soothing circles on my back as Alfred cleared up the mess from the hang over remedies, placing the flannel and the glass back on the silver tray and walking out the door.

"Bruce said that Roy would be here in the afternoon to pick you up for your date." Tim said, grinning, and I paled.

Bruce and Roy had been alone in the same proximity unsupervised?

I didn't want to know what happened.

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By the time the afternoon rolled by I was better. Not one hundred percent, but I think another nights sleep would cure me of my hangover.

All the same, when Roy turned up I glared at him. Why did he have to be so chipper? And not hungover in the slightest! He still looked his rugged, handsome self, but I was stuck looking sallow, my hair hanging limp, and no matter how much I showered, I could still imagine I smelled alcohol oozing from my pores as my body got rid of the toxin.

"Good afternoon." He dropped a kiss on my head and I grimaced. How he could stand to do that with the way I must look was beyond me.

"Ready to go?" he asked, smirking at me as if he knew how I was feeling.

I pouted. It was no fair, him making fun of me.

"Where?" I asked, instead of answering him.

He pretended to think about it for a moment. He better tell me, I found myself thinking. If he doesn't tell me, then there's no way in hell he's getting any smoochies.

"Ice skating." He said finally, and I grinned, previous thoughts completely forgotten.

"Are you serious?" I asked, bolting upright.

He nodded, and I squealed, throwing my arms around him. I hadn't been ice skating in years. The last time had been for my sixteenth birthday at an ice rink that had closed down shortly afterwards. There wasn't much business for ice skating in Brisbane.

"That's awesome!" I said, before tugging him towards the door.

"Come on!"

He laughed, but let me pull him towards our freedom, snatching our coats on the way out.

Thank god it was winter.

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Ice skating was as awesome as I remembered. Even the spills, which were often enough for me, relearning how to skate.

I got the hang of it soon enough though, even with my broken arm, and found myself loving every minute of it as I chased Roy around the rink, squealing when he'd turn around in a tricky manoeuvre I hadn't learnt yet to start chasing me.

When I got home my face was still flushed with excitement, from the skating and from the kiss Roy gave me. I walked into Bruce's study, expecting to find him there, but I frowned when he wasn't.

"Alfred," I said as I entered the kitchen. "Where's Bruce?"

Something flickered in his face, almost too quick for me to catch, but it was there. "I believe he went out, Miss Elizabeth." He said, and I frowned.

"Don't you usually drive him?" I asked, frowning suspiciously. What had been that expression on Alfred's face?

"He wanted to drive one of his own cars." Alfred replied smoothly, and I raised an eyebrow.

"But none of his cars are missing." I said. "I just came through the car port. They're all there."

"Then he must be back already." Alfred said politely, and I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral. Something was up. Something was being hidden from me, and I didn't like it.

I bit my lip, trying to think it through. I almost sighed, but stopped myself when I saw Alfred studying me out of the corner of his eye. I didn't have enough to figure out what it was, but that wouldn't stop me from figuring it out.

I went up to my room, before pulling out a notepad and a pen to brainstorm.

On top of the page I wrote 'Weird things about Bruce'. I didn't bother to put it in some sort of code or anything. I didn't plan on Bruce finding it anyway.

First on the list wasn't really anything to do with Bruce at all. It was Dick, and his apparent knowledge of Roy's personal life as well as his vigilante life.

And Roy's comments that he couldn't tell me much about himself without giving away some of Dick's secrets had me confused as well. Could this have something to do with Bruce and his secrets?

I jotted that down before frowning again. There were other things Bruce had done that were weird as well.

Like the time at the diner, when I'd first met Arsenal. I hadn't really thought about it since, but when we'd been hiding under the table, Bruce had pressed a panic button, that hadn't actually ended up with the cops coming.

Instead Nightwing, Robin, and Arsenal had shown up, but no Batman.

I grimaced, putting that down. I must be out of my mind, if I was really thinking was I was thinking.

I put it down anyway, before turning to look out the window, towards the woods that faced my window.

I leaned back in my chair, deep in thought. Why had Batman, Robin and Nightwing been the ones to save me when I was kidnapped as well? Why hadn't the police been involved at all? I mean, I knew Bruce had reported the kidnapping to them, but why would the Bat clan be working on it as well, or at least close enough to crack the case before the cops?

I put that down as well, before a knock on the door made me jolt up, swivelling in my chair and shoving the notepad under my mattress on my bed.

"Come in!" I called, and Bruce entered, an easy smile on his face.

"I heard you were looking for me." He said, and I nodded, pasting a smile on my face. It was hard to act carefree when you were trying to uncover someone's secrets.

"Yeah." I said. "Roy took me ice skating today." I said, and he raised his eyebrows, suddenly his smile dropping a fraction.

Okay, so try not to talk too much about Roy, I coached myself. "It was really fun." I hinted, and he looked at me like he was waiting for me to get to the point.

"We should go." I said, taking pity on him. so he couldn't read my mind, nobodies perfect.

"Ice skating?" he said, and I nodded.

"Yeah." I said. "We could make it a family thing. You, me, Tim, Dick…hell, we could even get Alfred out on the ice."

Bruce let out a startled laugh at the thought and I grinned.

"I'll ask the others, see what they think." He said, before stepping into the room a little further, a serious look on his face. "I heard you had a late night last night."

I grinned sheepishly. "A bit late, yeah."

He looked at me with a frown on his face. "I don't want you going out like that without someone you trust." He said. "There are a lot of people out there who would use you to get at me."

I rolled my eyes, but knew he was serious. After all, I'd already been kidnapped once before during my short stay in Gotham.

"Dad, I was with Arsenal." I said. "How much safer could I be?"

He pursed his lips, and once more I was reminded not to push it. Mentioning Roy again would be pushing it.

"Still." He said, before holding out a little black device. "I want you to carry this on you at all times." He pressed it into my hand. "It's a panic alarm."

I almost froze, but accepted it anyway. Was this anything like the panic alarm he had pressed that had resulted in Nightwing, Robin, and Arsenal coming to our rescue in the diner?

Time to test the waters.

"And this'll what?" I asked as casually as I could. "Call the cops to wherever I am if I'm in trouble?"

He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. It was somehow jaded, sad. Well, I suppose if I was giving my daughter a panic alarm because I thought my status as the prince of Gotham might cause her to become kidnapped, I'd be pretty upset as well.

"Something like that." He said, and I studied him for a moment, wondering how far I could push him into telling me things.

"Did you have one at the diner when the hold up happened?" I asked, and he started.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I saw you press a button, when we were under the table." I explained. "I was scared, but not too scared to notice that, Dad." I said, rolling my eyes, and he tried for a carefree grin.

"Sometimes I forget how quick on your feet you are." He commented, and we were stuck in that awkward silence where neither of us knew what to say.

Well, I couldn't just come out and tell him I knew he was involved with the Batclan.

But as I tucked the panic alarm into my pocket, even though we were in the Wayne Manor, and I (hopefully) wouldn't need it here at least, I knew this was another thing for 'the list'.

And soon, I'd have enough evidence on the list to figure out what the hell was going on with Bruce.

And then, well, then, he'd tell me everything, or I'd walk. I really didn't like secrets, especially ones that affected me.

I just hoped he was ready for it.

BMBMBM

I tottered out onto the ice, pulling Tim with me. I was really starting to get attached to the guy. He was fun to be around, anyway.

"I'll race ya!" I said, and he grinned, before pushing off in front of me, dashing away with no warning.

"Hey!" I yelled. "You cheated!" I laughed as I sprinted after him on the ice. He just flashed a grin at me over his shoulder and kept on skating. I bit my lip. There was no way I was going to let my 'little brother' beat me.

I pumped my legs, the burning feeling making me want to stop, but there was no way that was going to happen. Slowly, inch by inch, I edged my way closer to closing the gap between us, as Bruce looked on with Dick, smiling slightly at our antics.

I lengthened my stride, going further with each movement of my legs. I'd almost caught him. If I'd looked at Dick and Bruce, I'd have seen their shocked faces at the speed I was going. But as it was, I'd caught up to Tim, grabbing him by his arm, causing us both to spin around, laughing, until we came to a crashing stop against one of the barriers. My cast bounced off harmlessly, but it was still annoying. I couldn't wait for it to come off.

One more week.

I slid down the wall with Tim, laughing loudly, as Dick and Bruce skated up to us.

"That was amazing." Tim said between laughter. "For someone who grew up in Australia, you're pretty fast with a pair of skates."

I shrugged, grinning modestly. "I used to love skating. It's like riding a bike."

Dick helped me to my feet, before turning to Tim. "Dude, you got beaten by a girl."

"Hey!" I exclaimed, mock outraged. "You're just jealous cos your not as good as me." I teased, grinning.

"Watch what you say, kid," he grinned as well. "You might just find yourself challenging me to something you're not ready for."

I snorted. "Come on, let's race then. I'll beat all three of you."

"I'm staying out of this." Bruce said, holding his hands up in surrender. "I've been told not to play favourites with my kids, and I'm sticking to that."

I grinned, before tugging Dick with me, pushing him ahead.

"3, 2, 1 GO!"

To my complete surprise, I won all the races. Looks like I did have some talent with the skates. I would have suspected them letting me win, but the glares the two boys gave me were too convincing. Not to mention the significant looks they gave Bruce when they lost.

I wonder what that was about, I thought. Something more for the notebook.

"Come on, one more race!" I said as the boys began their defeated journey back to side of the lake to join Bruce and Alfred waiting beside it.

"No way." Dick said. "My masculine pride can't take any more."

I laughed, skating ahead and circling him on the ice. "Chicken!" just as I was about to start clucking like one, trying to get him to race me once more, I felt something crack beneath my feet.

My eyes widened as I looked down at the ever growing crack in the ice. I had time to look up at Dick with fear filled eyes for just a moment, before the ice gave way completely, and I was plunged into the dark, ice filled water.

I didn't even get to scream.

The skates pulled at my feet, dragging me down. I struggled to reach for the surface, my hands flailing slowly in the bonechilling water.

I broke the surface once, before my skates dragged me down again. I hadn't even gotten my head above the water for air. My arms burned as I reached for the surface again, my legs kicking as hard as they could with the skates weighting them down. This had never happened in Australia. Probably because the rivers were never iced over to skate on.

A finger tip grazed the surface and I struggled as hard as I could to get a hold of the ice's edge, but there wasn't any luck. My vision was fading as my supply of air left me finally, and I knew it wouldn't be long until I sunk to the bottom of the lake, only to be recovered when it thawed.

Slowly, so slowly, I began my descent, and as my sight finally turned to black, I found I didn't care. Then, I just stopped struggling.

I didn't feel the hand claw at mine, dragging me up, and out, onto the cold ice. What I did feel was the hand slam down on my chest, coughing up the water I'd swallowed. The natural light of day forced itself through my closed eyelids as I breathed in ragged gasps of air.

My last thought before slipping into tired oblivion was the question why was someone screaming for an ambulance?

If you enjoyed it, please review. Review inspire me to make the time to keep writing. (Working full time, uni full time…hard to find time for fanfic sometimes!)


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